Moments of Magic
by Fangirlofrandomness
Summary: We've all watched the film - we've all seen those glances between Jack and Elizabeth that say so much more than their mouths do. It's time to give voice to their inner thoughts. Learn what they truly think of each other through the 3 movies. J/E.
1. The Day They Always Remembered

(A/N: My first planned series, and my first Pirates fic! This is basically all the Sparrabethy moments from their points of view - which sounds really boring, but I'm trying to make so it's not!)

**The Day They Always Remembered  
**_Their first meeting, from Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl, when Elizabeth falls in the water and Jack rescued her._

"And then they made me their chief."

Jack had barely finished his story about the Pelagostos cannibal tribe, when a huge splash on his starboard side made him turn quickly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw…a dress? A dress had fallen into the water. _No, wait_, he mentally corrected himself. A dress and its occupier had fallen into the water.

He glanced up quickly, and saw several men in red staring down in horror at the foaming white spot on the otherwise-calm blue waters. It took him less than a second to figure out what had happened.

"Will you be saving her, then?" Jack doubtfully asked one of the guards. It didn't surprise Jack at all when he replied that he couldn't swim. Jack glanced momentarily at the other guard – he looked too confused at what was happening to even save his own self from drowning, let alone a lady.

"Pride of the King's Navy, you are," Jack contemptuously remarked, stuffing his effects into one of their hands. "Do not lose these," he ordered, thinking it would be enough of a challenge for them to follow that instruction. And with a beautiful (even if he did think so himself) clean dive, he plunged into the cool deep waters.

A ripple went through the water as he entered, but Jack scarcely paid any attention to it. The lady had sunk clear down to the floor, and as he tried to tug her back to the surface, he realized why. The overly fancy dress itself seemed to weigh twice as much as the lady, and it was all Jack could do to reach the surface himself and take a breath.

He dove under again, and Jack quickly tore the dress away, letting it sink underwater. The girl was now much lighter, light enough for Jack to haul back to the ship and drag on board, with more hindrance than help from the two guards.

"Not breathing!" one flustered guard exclaimed, desperately patting at the girl's cheek before Jack pushed him aside. Spotting the tightly laced corset, Jack immediately realized why she couldn't breathe.

_Women and their instruments of torture_, he thought disgustedly to himself. He didn't have a high opinion of the fairer sex in general, and feeble ladies like these were eternally proving his point. With strong, swift strokes of his knife, he cut away the corset, and the girl immediately choked up all the water she had swallowed.

"Never would have thought of that," the guard remarked, his panic forgotten as his eyes busily examined the girl's semi-naked body.

"Clearly, you've never been to Singapore," Jack drily replied. Men like these guards, they never realized how much knowledge lay outside of the borders of England. Fortunate for this girl that a man like Jack was here. He watched the girl gasp in air, absently noting the tantalizing way her chest rapidly rose and fell, but was distracted by a flash of sunlight glinting off of gold. He spied a necklace hanging on the girl's neck - a necklace that looked eerily similar to one he had known in the past - and, fingering the locket disbelievingly, Jack realized it was the same necklace.

"Where did you get that?" he muttered to the semi-conscious girl. How had such a necklace, such a dangerous, powerful, _pirate _necklace, come into the possession of this young, well-bred damsel in distress?

Just then, the sound of a sword being unsheathed rang through the air, and Jack found a sharp point half an inch from his throat, promptly forgetting all about the gold disk.

…

Elizabeth couldn't breathe – something was squeezing out all the air from her lungs, and something else - heavy and cool, tasting of salt - was filling the space in its stead. She tried to open her eyes, and couldn't. She was dying. There was no doubt. She could almost feel the life draining out of herself.

Suddenly, a dull, ripping sound came to her ears, as if from far away, and the huge pressure on her lungs was gone. Elizabeth gasped thankfully for air, more air, sweet air, and blearily parted her eyelids a bit.

She found a swarthy, sun-tanned face staring down at her, surrounded by dark braids of hair, a face that could only belong to a pirate. And suddenly she was wide awake.

Blades sprang out of thin air, and came to a stop inches from the pirate's throat. As the pounding in her head subsided, Elizabeth recognized James Norrington's voice barking out a command. Suddenly her anxious father hurried up, and promptly wrapped her in his coat. It was only then she realized she was partly-naked, and pulled the coat tight around herself.

"Shoot him!" her father ordered furiously, and Elizabeth realized, with a little embarrassment, what it looked like to him.

"Father!" she protested immediately, shocked at her usually mild-mannered father displaying such bloodthirsty desires. "Commodore," she turned to him pleadingly. "Do you really intend to kill my rescuer?" Pirate or not, this man had saved her from drowning. And he hadn't done anything wrong this time. Surely that counted for something.

Jack was pleasantly surprised to see the girl stick around long enough to plead his case. If he had been offered a bet, he would have bet his last rum bottle that the girl, having been traumatized at the sight of him, would go wailing to her mother, hiding her face in shame from having been rescued by a pirate. Thank goodness he hadn't been offered a bet, because it looked like this damsel wasn't too fond of being in distress. His opinion of the girl rose a notch.

He wondered, rather insecurely, whether she had failed to recognize him as a pirate. Would a well-bred lady such as her be defending him if she knew he was a thieving scallywag of a pirate? He did look like a pirate, didn't he? But then, as the Commodore considered the girl's plea, Jack became a little too anxious about his fate to care much at the moment about his appearance.

The Commodore looked at the girl, and from his gaze, Jack instantly knew he was infatuated with the girl. And as he looked back at the girl, he knew she knew the fact, and was playing on it for all she was worth. As the swords drew back, he quickly made a little thank-you gesture towards her.

"I believe thanks are in order." The Commodore raised his arm towards Jack, waiting. Jack looked at the outstretched hand and immediately distrusted it. But he could see no other option but to take it, and was not at all surprised when the Commodore seized the opportunity to swiftly yank up Jack's sleeve, showing off the pirate brand on his arm to everyone.

So the man really was a pirate, Elizabeth realized. She looked at him with a mixture of fascination and horror, and - though she tried to stop herself from feeling it- a slight bit of respect. Oh, she knew how terrible and nasty and ill-mannered and filthy they were, but she held a grudging admiration for the way they could go where they wanted, do what they pleased, and never have to listen to anyone but themselves. It was a life she had often longed for when she was younger, but could never quite imagine herself living.

"Well, well! Jack Sparrow, isn't it?" the Commodore remarked as he uncovered Jack's signature tattoo.

"_Captain _Jack Sparrow, if you please," Jack somewhat audaciously corrected him. He hated it when people forgot the Captain in front of his name. After all, he did command the finest ship in the world…or, at least, he winced as he corrected himself mentally, he_ used to_ command the finest ship in the world.

"I don't see your ship…Captain," the Commodore reminded Jack, his lip curling unpleasantly, though his tone remained civil.

"I'm in the market, as it were," Jack grimaced back, matching his sickly-sweet politeness word for word.

"He said he'd come to commandeer one," the quieter of the two guards spoke up. Jack imagined strangling him and feeding him to the sharks with a wistful longing. Too bad so many men were around.

"Told you he was telling the truth! These are his, sir!" the other guard chimed in, and handed over Jack's effects, right under his very nose.

And the Commodore began to examine and criticize Jack's stuff – all of which, to his mind, was worth more than the Commodore and those two guards put together. The Commodore remarked disgustedly, at the end, "You are without doubt the worst pirate I have ever heard of!"

Jack raised two fingers, a look of quiet triumph upon his face. "But you have heard of me," he pointed out boldly. Small baby steps were always the safest path towards fame...or infamy, as the case may be.

At long last, Jack's saucy attitude snapped the Commodore's patience, and he grabbed Jack by the shoulder, hauling him along unceremoniously.

"Commodore, I really must protest!" Elizabeth followed after them, trying to get her point across. She had been silent during their exchange, trying to fully absorb the absurdity of her situation. "Pirate or not, this man saved my life!" Didn't that count for anything? Was her life really that worthless in their eyes?

"One good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness!" James Norrington met her gaze squarely and stubbornly.

"But it seems enough to condemn him," the pirate remarked drily, amused at the irony. Elizabeth shot him a 'keep-quiet' glare, and turned back to the Commodore, trying to figure out a way to reason with him.

Jack, meanwhile, had a plan forming in his head as an extremely inept officer chained his hands together. After all, he was Captain Jack Sparrow. He did not stand idly by waiting to be freed by a woman's whines and pleas. "Finally," he sighed, as the man finished, and, quick as lightning, Jack threw the chain around the girl's neck. Yes, this girl was going to help him escape, but not quite in the way she would have preferred.

Elizabeth gasped in shock at the feel of the chain against her neck, and the warmth of the pirate's hands against her shoulders. He wasn't pulling the chain tight, but indignation swept over her like a tsunami as she realized how diabolical this man's plan was. Here she was, trying to save his life, and he was holding her hostage? Fury coursed through her veins, followed swiftly by shame, as she realized it was the second time that day that her life lay in a pirate's hands. Elizabeth hated being so helpless about her own fate.

"I knew you'd warm up to me," the pirate muttered, his warm breath tickling her ear, and then louder, he addressed the rest of the shocked audience. "Commodore Norrington, my effects, please!" Strange, how even that polite little phrase rang with authority coming from Captain Jack Sparrow's mouth. "And my hat," he added hastily.

The Commodore stood there, torn between two decisions, two loves. Jack almost felt a moment of pity for him, but not enough to let go. "Commodore!" Jack ordered again, a feeling of smug pity rising within him. This was why love was so useless.

Elizabeth watched as Norrington relented, and handed over the pirate's gadgets, slightly incredulous way the pirate was getting everything to go his way. "It's Elizabeth, isn't it?" the pirate's hot breath tickled her ear again.

"It's Miss Swann!" she proudly stated, not bothering to hide the disgust in her voice.

"Miss Swann, if you'd be so kind," Jack requested, making his tone a little more respectful, mildly impressed that the girl wasn't terrified at being held captive by a pirate. "Come, come, dear, we don't have all day."

The Commodore deposited Jack's effects into Elizabeth's hands, all except the gun, which Jack caught, and pointed at Elizabeth's head. Of course, he had no intention of shooting her – the bullet in the gun wasn't meant to take her life – but then, she had no way of knowing that.

"Now, if you'll be very kind," Jack asked Elizabeth again, quite politely, he thought. The girl was sharp, no mistaking that. She understood what he wanted her to do, and she did it, looking into his face all the time, a fierce, proud look in her eye, with only a hint of embarrassment tainting her expression.

Elizabeth had probably never done anything as shameful as dressing a pirate before in her life, but she didn't hesitate more than a second. She jammed the hat onto his head, glaring at him all the while, and wrapped her arm around his shoulders to get his coat on.

Jack easily pulled her close, to make her task easier, but also to see the look on the Commodore's face. It was too much like an embrace, to the distress of James Norrington, and secret pleasure of Jack Sparrow.

Looking at the girl's face, he found he could understand why the Commodore was so keen on this particular girl. She was quite pretty, and could be even prettier cleaned up, but besides that, there was a sort of sharp intelligence in her face, a sort of ruthlessness. Here was a girl, Jack felt, here was a girl who would do what she had to do to survive. A girl who could see a way from Point A to Point B, and would do it, no matter what the consequences. Pity she wasn't a pirate. They could have been good friends.

"Easy on the goods, darlin'," he whispered teasingly, as she tightened the belt around his waist.

"You're despicable," Elizabeth replied, quiet disgust in her voice.

Jack let the words bounce off his thick skin. "Sticks and stones, love," he murmured. "I saved your life, you saved mine, we're square."

At his words, Elizabeth gained a flash of understanding. When he put it like that, it did seem fair, now that she thought about it. This way, he escaped and she went unharmed. It was bewildering, for a second, to think a pirate was right. And then he spun her around and pointed the gun at her temple once more, and Elizabeth forgot any sympathetic thoughts involving Jack Sparrow.

"Gentlemen," Jack roared. "Milady," his low voice whispered near Elizabeth's ear, almost as though he was sharing some private thought or joke with her. In spite of his prejudice against most women, Jack couldn't help being intrigued by this one.

"You will always remember this as the day that you almost caught Captain Jack Sparrow." And with that final declaration ringing in the air, in a smooth, fluid motion, Jack pushed Elizabeth towards the advancing Commodore, and leaped on a rope to escape, managing to break a hole on the deck with a cannon as an added reminder of his visit. The crowd of young officers below watched him in amazement as he leaped away to safety.

Elizabeth herself watched with grudging awe at the retreating figure of Jack Sparrow, as she remembered all the legends and tales she had heard about Captain Jack. Had there ever been a situation he could not escape from?

But even Captain Jack Sparrow could be wrong on occasion, and this was one such occasion. It wasn't only the Navy of Port Royal who remembered the day forever. Both he and Elizabeth always remembered that day as their first encounter with each other - an encounter that would irreversibly change both their lives forever.

(A/N: So? Did you like it? Do you think I should continue the series? I was hoping I gave a good perspective of each character from the other's perspective. Jack finds Elizabeth very unexpected, as most of the fine ladies he has come across are weak, helpless, and airheaded. Elizabeth is fascinated by pirates, and is grudgingly admiring of the way Jack can weasel out of almost any situation. Please tell me whether you thought I did a good job, and whether you have a particular scene in mind you wish I would write about. I'm trying to do them in chronological order, though. If you've actually stuck around and read all this, please leave a review! They are the points of light in my otherwise dreary existence...)


	2. At the Island

(A/N: The Rum-Runner's Island scene. Longest work I have ever written, and this is only a chapter! But then, I included two of the deleted scenes of the movie, which I thought shouldn't have been deleted, since they were so good. But I think the reason they were deleted is that they showed too much Sparrabeth, while Disney wants the movies to be more Willabeth...Still, you can get the deleted scenes on YouTube! Enjoy!)

**At the Island  
**_What happened with Jack and Elizabeth when they were marooned on Rum-Runner's Island, in Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl_

"That's the second time I've ever watched that man sail away with my ship," Jack said, staring back across the blue waters to the Pearl, his eyes crinkled against the sun. He was beginning to feel the oddest sense of déjà vu, but it was definitely not the good kind.

Elizabeth looked at Jack, standing in the surf, and frostily stalked away. She didn't feel like dealing with him at the moment. Turning back to look at the pirate after a few minutes, she saw he'd just plopped himself down on the sand, a mere few feet away from the water's edge.

Indignantly, Elizabeth tossed her head back and resumed walking rapidly around the island. While some people could afford to just sit their selves down on sand and whistle the while away, she wasn't yet ready to give up. There had to be some way off this island – even if it was at the other end.

She walked under the scorching sun for an hour or so, refusing to look around at the scenery, or give any sign of enjoying the beautiful weather. Just as she was ready to sit down and take a break, she stopped short at the sight of a man, sitting by the edge of the water.

With a sudden leap of spirits, Elizabeth was about to run over to the stranger, ask for assistance, but then she saw it was just Jack. With a heavy heart, she trudged towards him with an even slower step, realizing she had already gone all around the island, with no escape in sight.

...

Jack, meanwhile, was perfectly content to wait out on the beach. He had the best view of any ship coming near, and why waste precious energy on fruitless activities? Toying with his pistol and the one bullet in it, he envisioned the bullet entering Barbossa's body and killing him off, and marveled at how such a tiny thing had the ability to take away a human life.

He spied the girl Elizabeth walk up in front of him, back already from her walk around the island, and gaze forlornly at the trail of footsteps she had made barely an hour past. Poor girl had obviously been looking for some way out, in the naive belief that some such way existed. He felt slightly sorry for her. Such a girl as she was probably unused to such harsh situations.

"It's really not all that big, is it?" he remarked in a slightly world-weary manner.

Elizabeth turned towards him coldly. "If you're going to shoot me, please do so without delay." He was a pirate, after all. He would kill her sometime, why not sooner than later? After all, it was better than dying of starvation - quicker.

Jack wondered distantly how she managed to make her tone so icy under the heat of the blazing Caribbean sun. "Is there a problem between us, Miss Swann?" he enquired formally, mirroring her chilly tone perfectly.

Leaning close threateningly, Elizabeth felt her indignation surface like an irritated cobra. Was the pirate really asking her what the problem was, after what he had been about to do?

"You were going to tell Barbossa about Will in exchange for a ship," Elizabeth informed him, practically hissing the last word in contempt. Her quiet tone was ominous enough to have quelled Jack, had he been less frustrated after losing the _Pearl_ to Barbossa once again.

"Well, we could use a ship!" Jack reminded her, slightly annoyed by the way she was looking at him as though he was responsible for all the sins and evil in the world. Perhaps it was the disappointment in her eyes that compelled him to continue. "The fact is, I was going to not tell Barbossa about bloody Will in exchange for a ship, because as long as he didn't know about bloody Will, I had something to bargain with. Which, now no one has, thanks to bloody stupid Will."

This was perhaps the first time Jack ever told another person what he planned to do. He had always felt that trusting another with your secrets was just dooming them to failure. But this particular planned was already ruined, and Elizabeth's upset voice irked Jack like nothing ever had before.

After all, what was with her and the whelp? He was a good steady boy, Jack supposed, but he was nowhere near the angelic saint she made him out to be. Quite thick-headed at times, and he might be extremely honorable, but in the world of pirates, after a while, that would certainly get Will and his whole crew killed.

Elizabeth's stare went from accusatory to sheepish, all in a matter of seconds. It was quite funny, except for the fact that, after being marooned for the second time in his life, Jack was not in a very humorous mood.

"Oh," Elizabeth mumbled, dropping her gaze to the white-gold sand on the beach. She hadn't considered the fact that he might have had a good reason for his actions, and truthfully, much as it surprised her, his words sounded pretty sensible to her at the moment. Suddenly, Jack's mind seemed like a maze to her, or like one of those illusions that magicians conjured up. Jack's occasional immaturity was only a cover for the sharp intelligence that lay behind.

"Oh," Jack repeated mockingly, managing to insert a whole world of sarcasm and irony into that one tiny syllable.

Elizabeth looked at him again. Even if he wasn't totally callous towards other people, she didn't like the way Jack spoke about Will in that tone filled with contempt. After all, it wasn't his fault that they were stuck on a deserted island forever.

"He still risked his life to save ours," Elizabeth tried valiantly to defend Will, although somehow her voice lacked its usual conviction.

"Ha!" Jack snorted derisively. He didn't say it, but they both heard the hidden sentence that was running through their heads. _Didn't do us much good, did it?_

_I need some rum_, Jack decided with a mental sigh, and started up the beach into the trees behind them. Elizabeth followed him rapidly, trying to reason out this debate.

"So we have to do something to rescue him!" Elizabeth exclaimed, annoyed and irritated by Jack's unwillingness to do anything useful. Even if Will was partly responsible for their fate, shouldn't they still try to escape, and help Will? If Jack had done so much in the past, if he could come up with so many brilliant plans, then surely he could get them off this island somehow. After all, hadn't Jack been abandoned here before?

Jack spun on his heel and faced Elizabeth. "Off you go, then!" he told her sarcastically, making shooing motions with his hand. "Let me know how that turns out for you."

"But you were marooned on this island before! So we can escape the same way you did then!" Elizabeth cried excitedly, and Jack mentally winced at the memory of his first visit to the island so many years ago.

"To what point and purpose, young missy?" Jack angrily questioned her, turning suddenly to face her. Her stubborn foolish conviction that they had to do something was making him feel unbelievably guilty about the fact that he did not know what to do – something that rarely, if ever, happened to Jack.

"The _Black Pearl_ is gone." Jack informed her bluntly, not allowing any of the blank despair he felt to seep into his voice. "Unless you have a rudder and a whole lot of sails hidden in that bodice – ," he stopped and ran his eyes over her appearance, "– unlikely – young William will be dead long before you can reach him."

Jack felt a little guilty at so bluntly crushing all hope, but it was the truth, every word of it. And a girl like her badly needed to hear some plain, inescapable truths.

But Elizabeth wasn't beat so fast. She followed Jack, as he knocked on a tree to see whether it was the right one. "You're Captain Jack Sparrow," she informed him, as though he didn't know.

Jack began to count out the steps he had to take towards the underground rum cellar. Elizabeth followed him, hardly noticing what he was doing. "You vanished from under the eyes of seven agents from the East India Company. You sacked Nassau Port without even firing a shot!" She didn't notice the slight tinge of admiration that had seeped into her voice, or the slightly glazed look that crept into her eyes.

Guiltily, Jack went about jumping on the sand, trying to ignore the way she was reciting all the things he had done, as though that changed a bloody thing about their present situation. Any other time, and he might have cheerfully agreed with her list, even added some more of his less famous but still ingenious adventures. But right now, all Elizabeth's stupid monologue was doing was reminding him of how he was supposed to know what to do - but didn't.

Suddenly, she appeared inches from his face, and he took a quick step backwards. "Are you the pirate I read about, or not?" she asked him quietly, her voice low and forceful.

They stared at each other for a long time, Elizabeth's eyes challenging, Jack's defensive. And in the silence that followed, Elizabeth felt a little seed of frustration sprout in her brain. Perhaps Jack Sparrow was nothing other than a dirty, filthy, cheating, lying pirate who took credit for what others did.

"How did you escape last time?" Elizabeth questioned Jack, softly, but with steel in her tone.

Mentally sighing, Jack gave up. She wasn't going to let it rest, it was clear, and Jack really just wanted to get drunk and forget this horrible, horrible day. After all, what difference did it make? It wasn't like they had any chance of escaping this island at all.

And so, he divulged the biggest secret of his career. To a stubborn, headstrong, young lady who had no business being mixed up with pirates. "Last time, I was here a grand total of three days, all right?" he admitted, masking the shame in his voice with impatience.

As Elizabeth stared at him in confusion, he bent down, and with a little effort, pushed up the door to the secret cellar. "Last time," he continued, as he stepped into the cellar, "The rum-runners used this island as a cache. Came by, and I was able to barter a passage off. From the looks of things, they've long been out of business."

Jack waved a bottle of rum in the air as proof. "Probably have your bloody friend Norrington to thank for that!"

Elizabeth stared at the rum bottle in shock, as Jack emerged from the cellar once more. She was speechless at this unexpected betrayal. Somehow she had started to equate Jack Sparrow with the person who could pull off miracles. Someone to respect for his quick thinking. Someone she had been depending on. And it hurt to think that she had been wrong about him.

"So that's it, then." She found her voice at last. "That's the secret of the Grand Adventure of the Infamous Jack Sparrow," she turned on him again, layering ironic sarcasm heavily on her last words. Somehow, she felt as though she had been betrayed by her only hope. "You spent three days lying on a beach drinking rum." she stated, her voice tight with disappointment and disillusionment.

Jack stared at her in surprise. When he hadn't told her his secret, she had been yelling at him, and even after telling her, she was still yelling! Although this time, it was worse, because now he felt like he'd betrayed her somehow, even though he had technically done nothing, and betrayal tasted even worse than guilt.

But what was so unusual about a pirate lying, he would like to know. Weren't they supposed to be unreliable, scraggy thieves who were out to save only their own skin? Everybody knew that, even young well-bred ladies who fell into oceans. It was the way things were with the pirates of the Caribbean. And now that the girl's lot had been cast with said pirates, she had best learn as quick as she could to deal with lies coming at her from every which way.

He half-smiled at her, trying to ignore the livid expression on her face. "Welcome to the Caribbean, love!" And, pushing her aside, he strode off to the beach.

But as usual, she followed him step for step. "So," she asked, her voice slightly ragged in her effort to suppress tears of despair. "Is there any truth to the other stories?" Was all Elizabeth knew of pirates and piracy a lie? Were they all lying braggarts who were cowards at heart? She felt like all her childhood fantasies were coming apart at the seams.

Jack looked at her, and saw the disappointment in her eyes, and a numb feeling spread over him. She was so young. So naive. What did she know of his life, a sheltered governor's daughter with no true cares in the world? What did she know of truth and honor and decency in the world of pirates, to be asking him like that? "Truth," he repeated, his voice going quiet and rough with suppressed emotion.

He lifted his sleeve, to show her the pirate brand and burnt skin on his right forearm, and Elizabeth suddenly remembered how much pain it must have caused, to have a symbol burnt right into your body, categorizing you forever in one class of folks. She, Elizabeth, could do anything, fit in anywhere, with no trouble save a change of clothes, but Jack would always be known by his pirate brand.

He lifted his other sleeve as well, and Elizabeth involuntarily took a step back at the sight of those raised, crisscrossing lines on his skin. His hand slid upward to his shirt collar, and he pulled it aside to show her two black marks on his skin, on his chest, where two bullets from a pistol must have hit him.

"No truth at all," he answered, quiet sarcasm in his voice. He would wager his last bottle of rum that she had never seen scars like that before in her life.

Elizabeth stared at Jack once more, feeling incredibly sorry for her words of a few minutes ago. She had no idea what he had and had not done before, and she still didn't, for that matter. She had no right to assume anything about what she had heard of him. Suddenly, it was Elizabeth feeling small and guilty.

Rum bottle in hand, Jack settled down on the beach, avoiding Elizabeth's eyes. "We can stay alive a month, maybe more," he informed her, his tone grim and practical. "Keep a weather eye out for passing ships, and our chances are fair." He took a satisfying gulp out of the rum bottle.

"And what about Will?" Elizabeth asked, all the insistence gone out of her voice. She suddenly felt old, tired, drawn out, but she had to find a way off this island, to save Will. "We have to do something."

As he looked at her for a moment, Jack felt an unexpected prick of respect, mixed with exasperation. She didn't seem to get it, that they couldn't do anything to help Will. She was being so stupidly stubborn, exactly like that whelp.

And yet, Jack felt quite impressed with her fortitude and resolution. Most young ladies he knew would have fainted and wasted away the moment they set eyes on pirates. But here she was, Miss Elizabeth Swann, still fighting for a chance to save her dearly beloved, even though there was nothing to be done. Well, nothing except one thing.

"You're absolutely right," he told her, and rolled the bottle of rum down to her feet. Uncorking a new bottle, he raised it in the air. "Here's luck to you, Will Turner." And he took a long sip.

Elizabeth picked up her bottle and stared at it for a moment. She knew it was a drink no decent man, let alone a decent woman, would touch, but she felt so tired, so worn out. Perhaps there was nothing to be done about Will.

She sat down beside Jack, and suddenly, a line from an old song floated through her mind. "Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!" she quietly murmured, and took a big gulp of the liquid.

Jack looked at her curiously. "What was that, Elizabeth?" he asked, as she choked down the rum, and made a face.

"It's Miss Swann," she told him, irritated and embarrassed by how obviously new she was to the world of hard drinks. Jack turned away silently then, as if he was sorry he had offended her, but in an air as though he was the one who had been offended as well.

Elizabeth decided to answer his question. She hadn't meant to sound so cranky and stuck-up. "Nothing," she quietly said, in the tone of one remembering days long ago and far away. "It's a song I learned as a child when I actually thought it would be exciting to meet a pirate."

At her words, Jack turned partially back towards her. Somehow, it didn't surprise him to hear Elizabeth would have enjoyed some pirate adventures of her own. Elizabeth had the right sort of mind for being a good pirate. "Let's hear it," he suggested.

"No," Elizabeth denied instantly, slightly embarrassed once again.

"Come on, we've got the time," Jack pressed. "Let's have it!" He was extremely surprised to know that she had once wanted to be a pirate, although when he thought about it, it wasn't that shocking.

"No!" Elizabeth refused again, a hint of exasperation in her voice. "I'd have to have a lot more to drink." she informed him. And she had no intention of getting inebriated on a deserted island with a pirate who preceded the names of her friends with the adjective 'bloody'.

He looked at her for a few seconds, then asked, "How much more?" And as she stared at him, he grinned meaningfully at her, held up his bottle of rum to his lips and took a big swig.

And somehow, he got her to keep drinking, although she never could remember how. But after a while, she didn't really mind. The drink made her feel all warm inside, and when dusk fell, they made a little campfire on the beach, and the flames from that made her feel warm outside.

And then, when she was more than drunk enough, Jack got her to teach him the song, and they ran around and around the campfire, singing the song and drinking. And it was fun. How could she have been feeling old and tired only a while ago? She was young, and happy, and having fun. She hadn't had fun in a long time.

"We're devils and black sheep, we're really bad eggs, drink up, me hearties, yo ho!" they sang, as they stumbled around the campfire. "Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!" Jack merrily warbled, barely noticing when he stumbled and stubbed his toe.

"I love this song!" Jack declared, spinning Elizabeth around. "Really bad eggs!" he shouted happily, and then collapsed on the sand as his head spun dizzily. Elizabeth laughed as she dropped down next to him.

"When I get the Pearl back, I'm gonna teach it to the whole crew. And we're gonna sing it all the time!" he excitedly exclaimed, flinging his arms wide.

"And you will be positively the most fearsome pirate in the Spanish Main!" Elizabeth added, seeing a whole crew of pirates dancing around a fire in her imagination.

"Not just the Spanish Main, love!" Jack corrected her. "The entire ocean. The entire world!" Jack didn't believe in dreaming small, especially not when he was drunk.

"Wherever we want to go, we go!" Jack happily told Elizabeth, and those words echoed in her ears, only partly because of the rum. "That's what a ship is, you know." Jack quietly told her, as though he was just thinking out loud to himself. "Not just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails, that's what a ship needs. But what a ship is – what the _Black Pearl_ really is, is freedom."

And Elizabeth wanted freedom. She liked sailing, after the initial seasickness. She wanted to go where she pleased, when she pleased. She wanted to forget about corsets, think of them as no more than a bad dream, wanted to breathe air, live life, have fun!

That's why she sometimes secretly longed to be a pirate – they were the only ones she knew who didn't have to submit to rules, who lived the way they liked, who lived totally for themselves and selfish abandonment.

But looking at Jack's expression, she realized that, no matter how much she wanted freedom – freedom she could never have – Jack wanted it more. That was why he risked everything he had to find his beloved _Pearl_. He could never submit to others – she could never see him as a blacksmith's apprentice, or a Commodore of the Navy. He was born for freedom, and right now, he was as free as a bird with a broken wing.

"Jack," she said as she snuggled up against his shoulder. "It must be really terrible for you, to be trapped here on this island."

"Oh, yes," he replied, as he felt the warmth of her body leaning on his. He was suddenly aware of how beautiful Elizabeth looked, with her salty curls dangling down her back, her cheeks flushed after running around the fire, and the soft curve of her body aligning with his. He curled his arm around her shoulders as he spoke. "But the company is infinitely better than last time, and the scenery – has improved."

Just then, Elizabeth became aware of the arm on her shoulder, and even when she was intoxicated, she hazily remembered the rules of propriety that her father was always reminding her about. "Mr. Sparrow!" she exclaimed as she tipsily sat up straight. "I'm not sure that I've had enough rum to allow that kind of talk."

Her breath blowing in his face certainly suggested otherwise – by Jack's muddled estimations, she had had about four bottles of rum. He was quite impressed – the girl could hold her liquor very well.

"I know exactly what you mean, love," Jack agreed, and curled up his moustache tips in what he considered a very suave and debonair manner. He inched his hand around her hair – still soft, although slightly dirty after a week or two at sea.

"To freedom!" Elizabeth held out her rum bottle suddenly. His words, about freedom, about ships, were still ringing in her ears. Rum was a powerful substance, to make such simple words sound so profound, so noble.

Jack looked at her hand, at the bottle held aloft. "To the _Black Pearl_," he amended, and clinked their bottles together.

Elizabeth took a sip from only her bottle, but something - probably her over-full stomach, unused to hard drinks - told her to stop, as she saw Jack guzzle the remaining liquid from his flask. He collapsed in a heap, and she rolled her eyes. She was drunk, but even she had enough sense not to drink that much.

Suddenly, Elizabeth felt wide awake. Those words of his – freedom, and a ship – they kept repeating themselves in her brain. Well, freedom couldn't be bought or taken, could it? It had to be earned. And Elizabeth knew that if they were ever to be free, they had to get off that island.

It wasn't enough to wait and drink and hope. She would go crazy from it, and she suspected that Jack too would not last very long. They had to work out a way to get away.

But, try as she might, Elizabeth couldn't figure out how. It seemed like a puzzle with no answer. In a sudden fury at everything – the island, Jack, her brain – she threw her rum bottle – nearly empty now – at the trees behind them.

Of course, being drunk, her aim wasn't as good as it might have been. The bottle landed smack dab in the middle of the fire, and smashed into pieces. The rum met the flames, and they instantly roared up twice as high. Staring at the suddenly-revived fire, an idea occurred to Elizabeth – one that she knew instantly why Jack had never considered.

Rum was supposed to fog a man's brain, if taken too much. Elizabeth could only suppose it was the opposite for women, as she set out for the secret cellar. She could barely see, in the dark of the night, but by feeling her way around – and then by simply falling into the cellar, she found it.

And she was amazed at how many bottles of rum were left. Hundreds upon hundreds rested on the shelves in all shapes and sizes of bottles. She carried them out to the fire, trying to juggle five at once.

All the foggy drowsiness was gone from her brain. Elizabeth was a woman with a mission now, and she carried that mission out faithfully, so that when the sun came up, she could barely see it, so covered by smoke the island was.

…

Jack was sleeping, dreaming peacefully of shooting Barbossa to death and claiming the Pearl as his own once again. All of a sudden, he smelled smoke. Opening his eyes instantly, he saw a cloud of smoke hanging above him. Scrambling up to his feet, he spotted Elizabeth – throwing in another bottle of rum, and dodging the fire when it suddenly flared up.

"No! Not good!" Jack yelled, waving his arms about like a signal and running towards Elizabeth. "Stop! Not good!" He surveyed the wreckage in horror.

"What are you doing?', he asked Elizabeth. "You burned all the food, the shade – the rum!"

Elizabeth scanned the horizon for ships. "Yes, the rum is gone!" she informed Jack with a businesslike air.

"Why is the rum gone?" Jack yelled at the back of Elizabeth's head.

Swift as a cobra, Elizabeth turned on Jack. "One: because it is a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels. Two: that signal is a thousand feet high." She hid the pride in her voice well. "The entire royal Navy is out looking for me. Do you really think there is even the slightest chance they won't see it?"

Jack was past listening to reason. His head hurt, and his eyes stung from the smoke. He wanted rum. "But why is the rum gone?" he protested again.

Disdainfully, Elizabeth turned away and sat down on the sand. Was that all he could thing about? The rum? "Just wait, Captain Sparrow. You give it one hour, maybe two, keep a weather eye open and you will see white sails on that horizon."

She was staking everything on that chance that they would see her signal. If they didn't, Jack and Elizabeth would both soon be dead. And they wouldn't even have the luxury of dying drunk.

Furious, Jack brought out the pistol and pointed it at her head, but then thought better of it. No, she deserved to starve to death once she figured out that rum was meant as food, not as bonfire-fuel. He hurriedly stuffed his pistol back into his pocket, and walked off.

"'Musta been terrible for you to be trapped here, Jack, musta been terrible for you' – well, it bloody is now!" he yelled back in the general direction of the girl.

And then he saw it. The ship. What's-it-called _Interceptor_. Stupid name, in Jack's opinion.

"There'll be no living with her after this," Jack muttered to himself.

…

To Elizabeth's credit, she merely looked triumphant, and did not, with either word or deed, keep reminding Jack that she was right. Not that he needed reminding. Now that his head had stopped pounding as hard, he could admit to himself – slightly – that it was a good plan, even though he would never have done such a thing. Although he would never ever tell her so.

But she knew it without telling, that it was a good plan, so it didn't matter much. It worked well, for her, certainly. Her father was on board that ship, as well as the good old Commodore who Jack had had the fortune to meet in Port Royal.

After maybe two minutes of greeting and explanation, (very much needed by her father as to what she was doing on a deserted island in her underdress with Jack Sparrow, of all people) Elizabeth started on her old project.

"But we've got to save Will!"

_Here we go again_, Jack thought, rolling his eyes. Although this time, rescuing the whelp was going to help him in the long run, he was getting just the teensiest bit tired of hearing about Will Turner.

"No!" her father refused. "You're safe now. We will return to Port Royal immediately, not go gallivanting after pirates!"

"Then we condemn him to death!" Elizabeth protested, shocked at her father's cold-heartedness. Jack winced a little as well. _When she put it that way…_

Governor Swann hesitated. "The boy's fate is regrettable, but then, so was his decision to engage in piracy."

"To rescue me, to prevent anything from happening to me!" Elizabeth's voice sounded like she was close to tears. Why was nobody supporting her? Her whole plan to get rescued off the island was blowing up back in her face. Why wouldn't the Commodore, at least, take her side?

Jack glanced at her quickly, surprised by how pitiful her voice sounded. Gone was the strong, independent woman who had shouted down a pirate scarcely an hour ago. Now, when he looked at Elizabeth, he saw a girl who had been fighting all odds to get what she wanted, to do what she knew was right, but was losing the strength to last much longer. He noticed how tired her eyes looked, how red and puffy after all the smoke, and he remembered how much your head could hammer the morning after drinking four bottles of rum in a row. A twinge of guilt nudged at his heart - the second time in two days.

"If I may be so bold as to inject my professional opinion," Jack spoke for the first time. "The _Pearl _was listing near to starboard after the battle, it's very unlikely she'd be able to make good time." He looked directly at Commodore, trying to tempt him with the thought. "Think about it. The _Black Pearl_, the last real pirate threat in the Caribbean, mate. How can you pass that up?"

Elizabeth knew that Jack was lying – or at least, concealing the truth. Norrington would not end up with the Pearl, or even any shred of glory, in the final run. But still, Elizabeth desperately hoped the Commodore would snap up the bait.

But he resisted the temptation as only Commodore Norrington ever could. "By remembering that I serve others, Mr. Sparrow, not only myself."

Elizabeth felt a flash of disappointment at his words. But then, she really hadn't been expecting otherwise. The Commodore was not in that class of men who were eternally seeking self-glorification.

"Commodore, I beg you, please do this!" Elizabeth hastened to follow the Commodore as he walked away, and Jack wondered interestedly whether that sort of dogged pursuit was one of the tactics with which she made others bend to her will. He should try it sometime.

"For me! As a wedding gift!" The words were out of Elizabeth's mouth before she could really think about them, but she didn't regret them. If it was the way to save Will's life, she would do it.

The whole ship froze, Jack included. Somehow, this prospect did not please him as much as it should have. He hated seeing that free-thinking girl strap herself down for a life with a boring old figurehead just to save the worthless life of the man she was infatuated with.

"Elizabeth!" her shocked father asked. "Are you accepting the Commodore's proposal?"

She hesitated only a slight second, but then answered, "I am."

And Jack, standing there astonished, was filled with admiration for this woman, mixed in with a little envy for her talent. She had had no intention of marrying the Commodore, but to save the one man she loved, she had done it. She was a genius. She had ruthlessly played on the Commodore's affections, perhaps the only thing he cared about more than his job, to get what she wanted. There was no way that lovesick Norrington could deny her now. If only she had been a pirate…

That was when he realized what this meant. If he played his cards right, it meant he was getting back his _Pearl_. Ecstatic, he exclaimed, "A wedding? I love weddings! Drinks all around!"

Everybody stared at him, and Jack instantly sobered up, reminded of his position as a pirate prisoner. "I know," he mumbled. "Clap him in irons, right?" and he held his hands out before him. Oh, Elizabeth's plan had worked out great – except for one small detail. Himself.

Commodore Norrington stalked forward. "Mr. Sparrow," he disdainfully spoke. "You will accompany these fine men to the helm and provide us with a bearing to Isla de Muerta. You will then spend the rest of the voyage contemplating all possible meanings of the phrase, 'silent as the grave'. Do I make myself clear?"

"Inescapably," Jack replied, the smile somewhat dimmed. But as he was pushed forward, he couldn't help but give Elizabeth a small nod of approval, and she couldn't help but give him a small smile in return.

(A/N: Okay, so the nod-and-smile part wasn't shown in the movie or the deleted scenes, but in my mind, it happened anyway. I didn't stop the scene at just the island, because it seemed too abrupt. This closing was much more smooth. Plus, I like to play around with what Jack Sparrow was thinking when she says that she'll marry the Commodore, even though they both know that she loves Will. Anyway, leave a review if you read it!)


	3. Peas in a Pod

(A/N: I decided to add in this little deleted scene, from Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl, so here it is. Many thanks to HoistTheColors for all her help and advice - this chapter wouldn't be here without you!)

**Peas in a Pod  
**_In Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl, before Jack and Norrington prepare to take on Barbossa's crew of the undead_

Jack stood at the rails of the _Interceptor_, looking out at the dark, foggy cover of night over Isla de Muerta. In just a few minutes, he'd have to go inside and convince a crew of undead pirates who hated him to come outside and fight off a crew of the Royal Navy who hated him. And somehow, in the process, he would have to take back the _Pearl _from that swine Barbossa, and hopefully kill said swine. But before that, he would have to make the stuffed codfish Norrington let him go alone into Isla de Muerta.

_It's going to be a busy night_, Jack thought wryly to himself. Well, he supposed it was better than the past two days of being cooped up in the brig.

Just then, he heard footsteps approach from behind him, and Elizabeth Swann, daughter of the governor of Port Royal, newly engaged to stuffed codfish Norrington, and Jack's drinking partner of two nights before, came up to stand by the rails.

Jack knew she had something to say by the obsessive way she was fingering the wood grains on the rails. He stood still and kept facing forward, knowing she would start talking when she felt like it. He could only hope it wasn't something else about her precious Will.

"You didn't tell him about the curse," Elizabeth muttered, partly to keep from James Norrington overhearing, and partly because she felt strangely conspiratorial - or was it embarrassment that seemed to numb her tongue?

"I noticed neither did you," Jack replied dryly. "For the same reason, I'd imagine," he added. After all the convincing he and Elizabeth had had to do, ending with her accepting Norrington's marriage proposal, it was definitely understandable that she wouldn't want to jeopardize it by mentioning that small detail.

Elizabeth wasn't at all sure that it was for the same reason. Jack kept back things all the time. She only omitted several unimportant details when circumstances forced her to. After all, would the Commodore have come here if he knew? And if he hadn't come, Will would have been doomed. "He wouldn't have risked it," Elizabeth told both Jack and her conscience, still carefully not looking towards Jack.

"Could have gotten him drunk," Jack teased her, as a mental image of them two, dancing around the fire, floated before his eyes. Elizabeth finally glanced up at him, as she remembered that night – was it just two days ago? – when they had sat on the beach, drinking. To her surprise, she briefly wished they were back there, and she was having fun again.

She wondered whether that comment meant he didn't agree with what they were doing. Maybe he disapproved of what she had had to do to get the Commodore to agree to come to Isla de Muerta. But she had thought it through, in the second before answering yes, and had decided that she could marry Norrington if it meant Will was alive and safe. How could Jack think she was doing wrong?

"Don't get me wrong, love," Jack assured her, as though he could read her mind. "I admire a person who's willing to do whatever's necessary."

And truly, he did. Elizabeth Swann may have, at one point, been an obnoxious bother, and at another point, burned all his rum, but she had the general idea right. She could see what needed to be done, and she did it, and he admired that more than he let himself know.

Somehow, Elizabeth found it comforting to look at Jack, and see the complete approval in his eyes. Despite what she told herself, she didn't think she could pull everything off with everyone set against her. She had never before have to overcome such insurmountable odds with so much at stake. It was reassuring to know that at least one person thought she was doing the right thing, never mind that the person happened to be a scallywag pirate. When her conscience pricked her, about doing something a _pirate_ approved of, she did her best to ignore it, and then told it that when in the land - or rather, the waters - of pirates, do as the pirates do.

_I have to do it_, she told herself firmly. _And if the rest of the world can't see why I have to do it, they'd all have to be stupider than a flying fish._

"You're a smart man, Jack," she complimented him, although she wasn't sure she was totally correct. Jack was more than just smart, he was cunning. Crafty. Where others saw impossibility, and she saw a straight path from desire to outcome, Jack saw a whole maze of endless possibilities. But this also meant he was unpredictable, and that thought prompted Elizabeth to tell him, quite boldly and frankly, "But I don't entirely trust you."

Jack almost laughed out loud. Only Elizabeth could manage to compliment a person and insult him in the same breath. But the insult bothered him only slightly – he knew he was untrustworthy in the eyes of others. What he didn't like was the way Elizabeth was speaking as though she didn't do the same thing.

The rum burning, for instance. Who would have thought that happily drunk lady dancing around the fire would have been tossing the rum bottles into the fire just as gladly a few hours later? And was she being trustworthy by not telling Norrington about the curse?

He didn't know whether the fact that she was as unpredictable as him made him trustworthy in her eyes, but he did know that it brought them both to the same level. They were very alike, the both of them.

Slowly, he drew closer to the suddenly cautious Elizabeth. "Peas in a pod, darling'," he whispered, motioning to the two of them with his hand. Elizabeth stared at him first in confusion, then in surprise, as she figured out what he meant. Was he really trying to insinuate that she, Elizabeth Swann, daughter of Governor Swann, was as untrustworthy as Captain Jack Sparrow?

Just then, she spotted Commodore Norrington over Jack's shoulder, and quickly turned away. Jack, seeing the direction of her glance, whirled around, trying not to yelp in surprise at the sight of the Commodore right behind him.

Although James Norrington was trying to keep his face smooth, the little creases by his eyes betrayed how disturbed he was at seeing them. But all he said was, "With me, Sparrow," as he tossed the compass in Jack's hands.

Jack left the deck, looking back at Elizabeth once. Norrington followed him without a word, and Elizabeth was left alone at the rails, trying to figure out just what Jack Sparrow had meant by that last comment.

(A/N: How did you like this one? I know I messed up the order a bit, and now this is Chapter 3, and I had to move up each chapter. But if you liked this one, but you reviewed for Chapter 3 last time, go to Chapter 7 (the curiosity scene), and review there! Please? Thank you! I knew you would!)


	4. Finding Jack

(A/N: This is just a sort of filler chapter, to kind of transition from Pirates 1 to Pirates 2. It's just Jack and Elizabeth sort of thinking about each other at the beginning of Dead Man's Chest - not when they're together, though. I felt like it was necessary for a segue between the two movies, and this was a particularly good scene for that. A few changes in it now!)

**Finding Jack**  
_From Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest, when Elizabeth is stuck in prison, and Jack is almost 'freed from his human form' by the Pelagostos cannibal tribe._

Elizabeth leaned her forehead on the bars imprisoning her as the sound of her fiancé's footsteps died away in the distance. She wished with all her might she could go with him as well, but Lord Cutler Beckett had stuck her behind bars, for helping a good man escape hanging.

She knew that lawfully, her actions were wrong, but morally, they couldn't be more right. Despite all his faults (and Jack had plenty), he was a good man. Elizabeth inherently believed that. And she could no longer imagine a world where he did not exist. Therefore, it had seemed the most natural thing in the world to aid Will in freeing Jack.

The prisoner in the next cell stretched out his hand in her direction. "'Ello, sweetheart," he grinned toothily at her. She stared at him in disgust and scooted away as far as she could.

That was one thing to be said for Jack Sparrow. He didn't try to take advantage of women – or at least, she had never seen him do so, despite all Will's tales about women slapping him every time he met them. Well, she supposed she could believe some of the tales - Jack was by no means a saint. But she had long ago decided that most of him - maybe fifty-five, sixty percent of him - was good.

She had once told him that she wasn't sure she trusted him, and he had replied that they were peas in a pod. She hadn't fully understood his meaning at the time. In fact, she still didn't fully understand it. But she felt that it had something to do with the times she did something that her father wouldn't approve of, something perhaps even Will might not like, but Jack would encourage her doing. It was those times, that she felt more alike to him than to anyone else in the world, more alike than the closest pair of twins - not that she'd ever tell anybody.

But she knew for certain that he was a good man, underneath all the piracy. Wasn't she proof of that? She would be dead twice over - once from nearly drowning, once from nearly being shot - had it not been for Jack. Wait, make that thrice over - there was also the time during the fight when he had prevented that man from bonking her on the head. And, though he had had plenty of opportunities to do so, he had never taken advantage of her. Even when she had only been wearing a flimsy underdress. And she supposed she could see how some women might be attracted to him - all he needed was a good bath, and he might actually look quite decent, Elizabeth mused.

All of a sudden, an image of Jack Sparrow, tidied up, wearing a crisp white shirt and a blue jacket, his black hair neatly tied back, boots shined and glossy, floated in front of Elizabeth's eyes. It looked good, Elizabeth had to admit, but something was not right with the picture. This was a gentleman who just happened to look like Jack Sparrow, not the real pirate himself.

The picture shifted - it was still Jack, but in his usual pirate garb, rattling with his 'effects', as his worn but sturdy black boots stood planted firmly on the mast of a ship with sails as black as Jack's braids flying out in the wind as he looked out toward some unknown destination. Something about it made Elizabeth's breath catch for a moment, before she came to her senses and blinked the image away.

It didn't matter how Jack looked, Elizabeth reasoned, just so long as Will found him as soon as possible. Elizabeth knew what a hard task Will had before him. Last they'd heard, he had fallen off a wall - ironically, the same wall Elizabeth had fallen off of and had needed Jack to rescue her - and headed off somewhere. For a pirate, the whole world was a playground. Jack could be anywhere, from England to India – perhaps even China, for all they knew.

Looking wistfully out the bars on the jail cell, Elizabeth wished with all her heart that she could sail away like that someday. Just to be free, not cooped up here like some sort of sick pigeon. She once again sent up a desperate plea for Will and Jack to come back _now._

But Elizabeth knew they'd come through, sooner or later. Both Will and Jack. She'd told Will that, and she fiercely believed it to be true. Jack would help Will save her from the gallows. What she didn't believe, although she longed to believe it, was that Jack would simply hand over the compass to Will. If it was so important that it always hung somewhere on his person, there was going to be a catch. She hoped that, whatever it was, it wouldn't take too long.

Looking up, Elizabeth saw the convict on her other side leering at her, and she quickly moved to the center of her cell, curling her hands around her knees, which were shivering from the cold.

Oh, yes. Jack Sparrow had better come soon. If she died from the very gallows they had saved him from, she would make sure her troubled spirit plagued him forevermore.

...

Jack heard the drums getting louder. The hunting party was approaching – with the rum he had ordered them to bring, he hoped. He opened his eyes to see the cannibals bring him – a man hanging from a pole? No, wait. A eunuch hanging from a pole.

Said eunuch groggily opened his eyes, and peered at Jack for a moment. Quite slow, the boy was, Jack though. But he finally recognized Jack, and immediately cried out, "Jack? Jack Sparrow! I can honestly say I'm glad to see you!"

_Now what did that mean? _Jack wondered, feeling a little miffed. As though anyone wouldn't be glad to see Jack!

Jack got up from his throne, and slowly walked up to Will Turner, and poked his shoulder experimentally. He had to put on an act for the cannibals, who considered him a god trapped in human form, but he also wanted to see whether the whelp was really there, and not some strange hallucination caused by rum deprivation. Last he'd heard, he and that girl of his were planning to get married.

As he walked towards the chief of the cannibals, he heard the boy yell behind him, "Jack! It's me! Will Turner!" as though Jack had ever forgotten a name or a face in his life.

He asked the chief where they had found him, quite thankful they thought his atrocious accent was just another part of his godly powers. The chief replied that they had caught the boy in the forest, with no idea how he'd gotten to the island. It was their gift to him, his last human feast before they returned him to his godly form.

"Tell them to let me down!" Will hollered in the background, being of absolutely no use, as usual.

Jack pretended to be disgusted with the gift, saying it looked undernourished and frankly, too tough to digest. He went over to Will, pretending to look closer, and added truthfully that he looked too much like a eunuch for his liking, making snipping motions with his hand to illustrate his point.

To give credit where credit was due, the Pelagostos cannibal tribe was quite understanding of everything Jack said, and tried to do whatever he asked. Too bad they wouldn't offer the same courtesy if he explained he was mortal.

"Jack! The compass!" Will cried suddenly. "That's all I need, Elizabeth is in danger!" Jack pricked up his ears at Elizabeth's name. Why did the whelp always come to him for help in rescuing his own damsel in distress? Especially when said damsel rarely ever seemed to need help, if Jack remembered rightly.

"We were arrested for trying to help you, she faces the gallows!" Will continued. Oh, so they were trying to palm this one off on him, were they? Well, he hadn't forced them to help him escape! Although to be fair, the alternative seemed quite bleak in retrospect.

Well, all right, maybe he did owe them. And the gallows did seem quite harsh a punishment for so little a crime. And maybe he could help Will with his mission – but he would have to see about giving the boy his compass, unhelpful though it may be at present. The compass was important to Jack, and quite frankly, he did not trust the whelp with it.

Still, if anyone was to help anyone, they first needed to get off this island. He turned back to the chief, and told him to put the boy with the other crewmembers. The boy was sharp when he wasn't being bothered by things like honor and decency, Jack had to admit, and with his brain and the crew's willing hands, they should be able to find a way to escape. And when they do, Will, if not Gibbs, would see to it that the first thing they do is rescue Jack.

"Save me!" he quickly whispered at the confused Will, as the villagers hauled him off, protesting.

Jack sat back on his throne and wished for some rum. Somehow, rum always seemed to straighten things out. In the case of Captain Jack Sparrow, and yes, sometimes even in the case of Miss Elizabeth Swann, rum always helped.

(A/N: I know, the ending's kinda abrupt, and this chapter doesn't have that much Sparrabeth in it. But I kinda figured it would be kinda choppy if I just jump to the Tortuga scene without some kind of transition...the scene in Tortuga where Elizabeth and Jack meet is coming up next, hopefully. Leave me a review if there's anything special you want me to include! - or even better, just leave me a review!)


	5. Meeting at Tortuga

(A/N: The meeting of Jack and Elizabeth at Tortuga, obviously. Hope you like it!)

**Meeting at Tortuga  
**_The scene in Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest at Tortuga, when Jack is searching for souls to exchange to Davy Jones, and Elizabeth is looking for Will._

There was the _Pearl_. Elizabeth looked up at the familiar black sails, feeling her spirits rise automatically. If the ship was here, the captain would be somewhere near.

Turning her head to search the crowd behind her, she immediately spotted the pitch-black dreadlocks and kohl-rimmed eyes of Captain Jack Sparrow, and she felt a wave of relief sweep over her automatically. She had found Jack, a sure sign that everything would turn out okay. She thought about hurrying after him immediately, but he was talking to his first mate, Mr. Gibbs. Another friendly face.

Elizabeth had been searching for friendly faces for so long, she wasn't sure she'd last another day. Finally, now that she'd found Jack, she didn't need to pretend anymore. No more disguising her femininity or sneaking around or keeping her true motives hidden. She felt her mouth curl up in a small smile of relief.

They passed without recognizing her, and Elizabeth tried to compose herself. She needed Jack's help, but she couldn't let on how much exactly she needed it.

...

"Captain Sparrow?" a youthful voice called behind Jack, as he headed up to the _Pearl_.

_Ah, a last minute addition_, Jack thought, pleased. "Come to join me crew, lad? Welcome aboard!" he briskly replied, glancing back across his shoulder to see who the speaker was.

"I'm here to find the man I love," the voice replied, starting to sound eerily familiar.

Jack stopped in his tracks. _Not another one_, he thought, slightly disturbed. What was it about him, that made him so irresistible to both men and women? Not even a man, by the sound of this fellow's voice, a young lad!

"I'm deeply flattered, son, but my first and only love is the sea!" Jack quietly said, trying to let the boy down easy. He covertly signaled to Gibbs, telling him to get the boy out of here.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at Jack's typical egotistic stupidity. "Meaning William Turner, Captain Sparrow," she clarified.

At the sound of the whelp's name, Jack turned and looked behind him properly for the first time. Familiar hazel eyes, looking slightly exasperated, stared back at him, and Jack remembered. The last time he had seen them, the owner had just rescued him from the gallows, and was preparing to finally wed the man she loved.

"Elizabeth," Jack recognized. And at once a memory shot over his vision, of a girl with wild sandy hair dancing around a bonfire on the beach, silhouetted against a dark night sea. A second memory took its place, of the same girl tossing a bottle of rum with deadly accuracy into a fire, and hurriedly, Jack turned to Gibbs and ordered him, "Hide the rum."

_Throw a few bottle of rum into a fire, and get a bad name for life_, Elizabeth wryly thought, as Gibbs bustled off, trying to conceal the bottle he clutched in his hand. Not that rum was in any way important to her, like some drunken pirates she knew, but she didn't mind a sip now and then.

Said drunk was now saying, "You know, these clothes do not flatter you at all, it should be a dress or nothing. I happen to have no dress in my cabin!"

"Jack," Elizabeth stopped him. As usual, he was talking about inconsequential details, trying to distract and annoy her. But she couldn't afford to be distracted. She had to find Will. "I know Will came to find you, where is he?"

She was not aware of the hope that filled her eyes and made her voice tremble slightly, but Jack noticed immediately. He was shocked at the changes in Elizabeth. She still looked as beautiful as ever – he had only been half joking about his cabin – but now she also looked...world-weary. Like she'd seen the worst of mankind and had lived through much more than her scant two decades offered. It struck him that he was partly responsible for those faint shadows under her eyes – after all, she had been imprisoned for helping him escaped – and Jack realized that guilt was a very unpleasant emotion.

Several thoughts ran through Jack's head, different things he could tell her about Will's whereabouts. It did occur to him that he somewhat owed her the truth, but he decided against it. Who knows what she would do to the rum if she knew how he had tricked Will onto the _Flying Dutchman_.

In the end, he decided to tell half truths – the safest of all truths. "Darlin', I am truly unhappy to have to tell you this, but through an unfortunate and entirely unforeseeable series of circumstances that have nothing whatsoever to do with me, poor Will has been press-ganged into Davy Jones's crew." And he tried to make his face look sorry at the end, to emphasize the whole 'nothing whatsoever to do with him' part.

"Davy Jones?" Elizabeth asked, slightly confused. She'd heard of him before, yes, but who –

"Oh, please," James Norrington panted behind her, catching his breath after throwing up yet again. "The captain of the Flying Dutchman!"

"You look bloody awful, what are you doing here?" Jack asked the man who barely had any resemblance to the neat, precise Commodore.

"You hired me! I can't help it if your standards are lax," Norrington replied snootily.

For a split second, Jack wanted to blurt out that he was only hiring whoever applied so he could give a hundred souls to Davy Jones, but he controlled the impulse, and decided to be content with retorting, "You smell funny!" Which was true.

"Jack!" Elizabeth interrupted yet again, wondering how the conversation had got from Will to Norrington's hygiene standards – which, she had to admit, were far worse than Jack's in the current situation.

"All I want is to find Will," Elizabeth explained, hoping that he would understand, praying that he would help her soon. Because he knew it as well as she did, that she would never find Will without Jack's help. She knew that Jack would ultimately help her – somehow, he always did end up helping her – but she didn't think she could wait any longer for his help.

Jack looked at Elizabeth, and saw the pleading fill her eyes. She needed to find – and probably save – Will. Yet again. It was becoming rather confusing as to who the damsel was in their relationship, in Jack's humble opinion.

He half-began to ask what he had to do with any of this, but the look on her face stopped her. And he realized that right now, he might be her only hope, only chance. Distracted, he wondered how exactly Elizabeth put so much faith into a person as unreliable as he was, and felt a twinge of admiration for her courage.

That was when an idea – an absolutely brilliant, fantastic, wonderful idea, he might say, if he weren't so modest – occurred to him.

He'd sent William in to get the key. He'd ask Elizabeth to find the chest for him.

"Are you certain?" he asked Elizabeth quietly. "Is that what you really want most?" A lot depended on what he was saying. He needed to pick his words carefully. This girl was sharper than most others, he needed to be on the top of his game to fully deceive her.

"Of course!" Elizabeth answered a shade too quickly, slightly indignant that he would have any doubt of that. For some reason, her inner voice questioned her response, echoing his words. _Is that what you really want most?_ As usual, Elizabeth ignored it.

Hastening to explain, Jack continued talking, walking down the gangplank towards the _Pearl_ with her. "Because I would think, you'd want to find a way to save Will most."

Skeptically, Elizabeth stated, "And you'd have a way of doing that." Naturally. Jack always appeared able to do things that seemed impossible – or, at least, difficult – and make it seem easy. But when his plans involved other people, it seldom bode well for the others.

"Well," Jack put his fingers together, wishing for luck these next few words. "There is a chest – "

"Oh, dear," Norrington groaned at those words, making his skepticism plain to Elizabeth.

Jack shot him a look, and continued. "A chest of unknown size and origin – "

"But contains the still-beatin' heart of Davy Jones!" Pintel interrupted Jack, as he shuffled past, carrying a crate up to the ship. His one-eyed friend Ragetti giggled at his words and made a fist with his hand, making it beat like a heart.

Elizabeth stared at Ragetti, about to ask why he wasn't dead when she clearly remembered him being so, but Jack, tired of being interrupted, spoke before she could. "And whoever possesses that chest, possesses the leverage to command Jones to do whatever it is that he or she wants – including saving brave William from his grim fate."

Before Elizabeth could really consider his words properly, Norrington asked her, "You don't actually believe him, do you?"

Jack immediately glanced sharply at her, trying to seem as innocent as a pirate can possibly look, trying to palm it all off as a way to help Elizabeth. He wasn't totally sure that she would believe him - Elizabeth was a smart woman, to say the least, and she knew Jack's character better than anyone else.

Elizabeth looked at Jack, and then back at a disapproving Norrington. She knew, better than anyone, that Jack was not the most truthful pirate of all. But really, what could she do? Without Jack, she was more alone in the world than she had ever dreamed she ever would be. What choice was there besides trusting Jack?

Plus, Norrington made it sound like Jack was the epitome of selfishness, and she knew that wasn't necessarily true. He had helped rescue her at least twice from certain death, after all. Somehow, Elizabeth knew that Jack would help her - perhaps not the way in which he said he would help her, but he would help her get Will back, one way or another. With a shock, Elizabeth realized that Jack had never actually let her down in a time of need before.

_Oh, why not?_, Elizabeth asked herself – and then ignored all the mistrustful responses her brain was screaming back at her. "How do we find it?" Elizabeth asked.

Jack shifted a moment. This was the tricky part. "With this!" and he held aloft the compass, in a manner that, centuries later, was still being used to advertise products much less useful than the compass.

"My compass," Jack clarified, in case Elizabeth had forgotten, and snapped up the lid – and snapped it down half a second later, in case Elizabeth should see the teetering dial, and ask questions. "'Tis unique," Jack gloated.

"'Unique' here having the meaning of broken," a disbelieving Norrington informed Elizabeth. But Elizabeth had seen the compass in action, and she knew it wasn't really broken – she had always supposed it pointed directly at Isla de Muerta. But apparently, that wasn't the case.

"True enough, this compass does not point North," Jack carefully explained, trying to ignore Norrington's less-than-helpful comments.

Elizabeth looked sharply up at Jack. "Where does it point?" she asked, when it became evident that he, a true showman, wouldn't continue until she said something.

There was that look on his face again, that tone in his voice again, as he said the words, "It points to the thing you want most in this world." That tone alone was enough to set the gears of Elizabeth's imagination running, showing her pictures of sailing the wide oceans, going where she pleased, towards what she pleased. It was the same voice he had used the night on the beach, making her see things that could never happen, and making them seem possible, if only Elizabeth had the guts to grab them. Only Jack's voice ever gave her that feeling, that her dreams were just in reach, and all she had to do was believe.

"Oh, Jack," she happily sighed for a moment, but then remembered Norrington's warning, and Jack's reputation for lying. "Are you telling the truth?" she asked hesitantly. He had to be telling the truth this time. It all depended on him telling the truth.

"Every word, love," Jack replied easily. After all, it was technically true. The compass did point to what you wanted most in the world. He should be feeling quite misjudged by her questioning his intentions – except for the fact that she was partly right. The feeling of guilt intensified slightly, and Jack resolved that he would personally see to it that she was reunited with her fiancé soon, thereby erasing any need for any more guilt. But even this was not enough to completely quell that uneasy emotion inside Jack.

Jack placed the compass in Elizabeth's hand. "And what you want most in this world," he told her, "is to find the chest of Davy Jones, is it not?"

"To save Will!" Elizabeth automatically corrected him, her constant refrain of the past few weeks bubbling easily to her lips.

"By finding the chest of Davy Jones," Jack added. He realized that he completely detested that phrase – 'to save Will'. It was so…stupid, her urge to protect and defend Will at all times. Did she ever stop thinking about that whelp? Jack hoped she didn't keep thinking that and lead them straight back to the boy on the _Flying Dutchman_. He hadn't seen that one coming. Oh, well. They'd just have to get around that somehow. He opened the compass and leaped away, afraid it might not work if he was nearby.

Elizabeth looked at the object in her hands. The needle spun here and there, not totally sure which way to point. She knew what she wanted to do was to save Will, but then to do that, she'd need the chest. So she needed to find the chest of Davy Jones. As soon as she decided that, the needle stopped moving, pointing off to the North-East. Jack crept up beside her, and peered at the compass with bated breath, hoping it had worked. "Mr. Gibbs!" Jack called.

"Cap'n!" Gibbs came to stand before them.

"We have our heading," Jack told him, a quiet note of triumph in his voice.

"Finally!" Gibbs exclaimed with approval, and began roaring orders at the crew. At those words, Elizabeth felt a small prick of suspicion, and turned to look at Jack. Why did they only have a heading now? Why the 'finally'?

Jack could tell she was suspicious. But he could also tell that she was tired and sleepy and did not have the energy to protest much anymore. So he decided not to invite trouble by calling attention to her suspicions. As the gangplank up to the ship lowered, he motioned towards the _Pearl_. "Miss Swann," he formally gestured with an exaggeratedly elaborate flourish.

Without another word or question, Elizabeth marched up to the ship. It was enough that she had found Jack and that he had agreed to help. Everything else would work out in the end. It had been a long day, and she probably didn't even want to know.

(A/N: I think Elizabeth suspected that something was up with the compass that first time, so it was fun doing the whole 'I don't want to know' thing at the end. I wasn't sure whether this scene was really Sparrabethy enough, but I figured, what the heck. It's got Jack and Elizabeth in it, why not? Tell me what you think! Yes, that was a not-so-subtle hint for a review!)


	6. Persuasion

(A/N: The persuasion scene - also the scene when Elizabeth goes into denial. Some things I couldn't really figure out, so I don't think I did as good a job as I have with other scenes. Still, I guess it isn't too bad...what do you think? I revised this a bit, and I just realized how suggestive this whole scene is…so I sort of added in more innuendos than I meant to…sorry. We learned about Freud this year…)

**Persuasion  
**_The scene aboard the Black Pearl in Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest, when Jack wants Elizabeth to persuade him to give up the letters_

"Beckett?" Gibbs spat out the name as though it tasted bad.

Elizabeth looked up at him in surprise. "Yes, that's right. Lord Cutler Beckett, of the East India Trading Company."

"Aagh," Jack moaned, as though he too had a bad taste on his tongue. He'd had some not-so-friendly encounters with that stuffed codfish before.

"Will was working for Beckett, and he never said a word," Gibbs said wonderingly. Jack simply groaned at the name again. Elizabeth, about to say something in defense of Will, stopped and wondered whether that was his natural reaction to Beckett's name. If they weren't in such a tearing hurry, she mused, it might have been fun to say that name over and over again to annoy Jack.

"Beckett wants the compass. Only one reason for that," Gibbs continued, a nervous look on his face.

"Of course," Jack nodded, not groaning this time, to Elizabeth's slight secret disappointment. "He wants the chest."

"Yes, he did say something about a chest," Elizabeth confirmed, remembering the conversation they had had the night she went to get the letters. Jack stared at her almost accusingly, but before she could protest, Mr. Gibbs started talking.

"If the company controls the chest, they controls the sea," Gibbs told Elizabeth.

"A truly discomforting notion, love," Jack added, as though she couldn't figure out for herself what that meant.

"Bad!" Gibbs exclaimed again, leaning toward Elizabeth to emphasize his point. "Bad for every mother's son what calls himself pirate." Examining the sails, Gibbs muttered, "I think there's a bit more speed to be coaxed from these sails," and he strode off, calling directions to the other crewmembers as he went.

As soon as he had left, Elizabeth turned towards Jack to ask something, but promptly forgot her question in her surprise at their proximity. He had inched closer to her, and she quickly retreated, slightly alarmed.

"Might I enquire as to how you came by these?" Jack asked with a grin, indicating the letters.

"Persuasion," Elizabeth replied, in a blasé tone, trying not to trip as she backed up.

"Friendly?" asked Jack. He knew how insistent Elizabeth could be, but he also knew Cutler Beckett. The president of the East India Trading Company was not easily moved by beseeching pleas or even womanly tears. He wondered with sudden anxiety for a brief moment if Elizabeth had seduced Beckett into compliance, but decided to dismiss the thought. Elizabeth would never betray her precious whelp like that.

"Decidedly not," Elizabeth replied, and Jack was relieved at the flash of steel in her eyes, a sure sign that Cutler Beckett had not enjoyed whatever persuasive tactic she had employed. He wasn't sure exactly why he would care about any persuasion of any sort between Elizabeth and Beckett, except for the fact that the girl was simply too good for the likes of a monster like Beckett.

"Will strikes a deal for these, and upholds it with honor; yet you are the one standing here with the prize." The irony of the whole situation fully struck him. But somehow, he wasn't too surprised that Elizabeth hadn't waited for Will to come rescue her. She was becoming less of a damsel in distress, and more of a pirate, every day. It was quite invigorating to watch.

Elizabeth wasn't sure exactly what Jack meant by his statement, but she didn't get a chance to say anything as he started reading out loud from the letters.

"Full pardon, commission as a privateer on behalf of England and the East India Trading Company." It sounded like a life most ideally suited for young Turner and his beloved betrothed. "As if I could be bought for such a low price," Jack sniffed as he stuffed the letters into his pocket. If Elizabeth ever found out about his tricking Will onto the Dutchman, those letters could very possibly be the only thing that would hold Elizabeth back from sending him to Davy Jones' locker.

"Jack, the letters, give them back!" Elizabeth demanded with mild panic, as she watched Jack stow them away. They were her and Will's tickets to freedom, and she wasn't sure she could trust Jack with them.

"No," Jack instantly refused, and then thought better of it. "Persuade me," he teasingly whispered over his shoulder at Elizabeth. He had no doubt that whatever Elizabeth's means of persuasion was, he was a much more deserving recipient than Lord Cutler Beckett.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows slightly at his flirtatious tone, recognizing the double meaning of his words. She instantly rose to the bait in his voice, feeling their relationship slide back into the familiar yet unconventional lines that set it apart from all other relationships.

She stepped closer to Jack's shoulder, getting a strong whiff of sea salt and rum off his personage – an odd combination, and one that Elizabeth shouldn't have liked, but for some reason she found herself breathing in deeply.

Lowering her voice just enough, Elizabeth whispered, her breath tickling Jack's ear, "You do know that Will taught me how to handle a sword?" Which was true enough. Will had agreed to teach her, but since he didn't like fighting against her – always worried he was going to hurt her – she mostly practiced by herself. It would be an interesting challenge to try and beat Captain Jack Sparrow.

Jack paused when she mentioned Will. Despite his eunuch-like tendencies, Will Turner was an excellent swordsman. However, somehow, he doubted that Elizabeth would actually lift a sword on him for such a trivial cause, even if there was one she could get ahold of at the moment.

"As I said," he grinned, as he turned to face Elizabeth, "Persuade me." The grin lengthened into a full-fledged smirk that only black-haired, black-eyed, black-hearted pirates like Jack could ever do.

Elizabeth wasn't sure whether she should slap him or not – surely nobody would mind if she did, and ladies were allowed to slap men for even less trivial insults than Jack had just given her. The thing was, she didn't feel insulted one bit. In fact, she felt…eager. Animated with anticipation and a rush of adrenaline in her system. She was half-tempted to try her hand at…persuasion. For a moment, she felt that persuading Jack Sparrow would be an even more interesting challenge than dueling him.

Confused by the sudden turn of her thoughts, Elizabeth decided not to slap Jack. It would just bounce off his thick skin after all. But she suddenly realized that the conversation was steering into dangerous unknown waters, so instead of making any sort of reply, she simply wagged her head in no particular direction and quickly walked off before her face gave away her feelings.

Jack stared after her with raised eyebrows, wondering what she was thinking. Women were each supposed to be a riddle, but Elizabeth Swann was a particularly interesting conundrum, that one. For a second, he could have sworn he saw… something completely unexpected in her eyes. _Here's luck to you, Will Turner_, Jack silently toasted the boy. The way Jack figured it, Will should have picked a different lass to woo. He was going to need all the luck he could get, dealing with a girl more mystery than maiden.

...

Elizabeth stared out at the vast ocean, but only saw Jack's teasing grin before her eyes. She hadn't slapped him, or done anything really, because what was the hurry, after all? Will was still with Davy Jones – she needed Jack to rescue Will before she did anything that might offend him. Or, at least, that was the explanation she came up with as she stood at the rails. What else could explain that odd feeling that had come over her - a strange mix of wanting to pummel every inch of him – what she had always felt for Jack - and a completely irrational desire to simply wipe the smirk off his face using only her lips?

Suddenly, Elizabeth thought about that empty threat she had given Jack. It would be very interesting to fight with Captain Jack Sparrow. She'd seen him fight before, and he was a tricky opponent.

Will was much better than Jack with just using the sword – he knew all the lunges and parries, and he was limber, too. Fighting with him was tough, because he was so good. But fighting Jack would be much trickier, since he was changeable as the wind, as unpredictable as the sea he loved so much. With Jack, it wasn't just a sword that was a weapon. His experienced hands and crafty brain could turn anything remotely close into a deadly weapon.

His unpredictability was a good thing, though, Elizabeth grudgingly realized. Even when she was at the end of her rope, and absolutely out of options, Jack would always be able to pull out something from thin air. Which was why, despite all his faults, Elizabeth trusted him. A good man to have around in emergencies. A good man, period, Elizabeth fiercely believed. She imagined the look on Jack's face if she ever told him that, and she couldn't help but chuckle at the thought.

That was when she noticed someone standing by her elbow, and she quickly sobered up. "It's a curious thing," James Norrington remarked. "There was a time I'd have given anything for you to look like that while thinking about me."

"I don't know what you mean," Elizabeth automatically muttered, even though she had a pretty good idea. She turned away from the sea, and tried to control her impulse to blush. It was a good thing her skin didn't show red very well.

Norrington laughed at her denial, and said, "Oh, I think you do."

"Oh, don't be absurd, I trust him, that's all!" she snapped at Norrington, trying to convince herself the same thing. _Trust and love are two completely different things_, she told herself firmly.

He chuckled again, as though there was a joke she hadn't heard. "So you've never wondered how your latest fiancé ended up on the _Flying_ _Dutchman_ in the first place," Norrington remarked. And then, shaking his head at the folly of young women, he strode away, leaving Elizabeth behind with all her thoughts, dreams and plans in disarray.

_Now, what had he meant by that last remark?_, Elizabeth wondered. In fact, what had he meant by the entire conversation? He wasn't really daring to suggest that she fancied Jack Sparrow, did he? And what did he mean about Will? Surely Jack hadn't – ?

Trying to erase the whole conversation from her mind, almost automatically, Elizabeth took out the compass to check which way they should be headed. The way towards Will, she reminded herself, although that seemed unimportant at the moment. Strangely, the compass needle didn't point the way it had an hour ago. With an apprehensive feeling, she looked the way the needle pointed, and saw Jack, standing at the rails of the helm, looking through his spyglass out at the sea he loved so much.

Annoyed, she quickly snapped shut the compass and thrust it away. The entire idea was absurd, she tried to tell herself. The stupid thing was malfunctioning somehow. After all, didn't Norrington himself say it was broken? Either way, she loved Will. Will Turner. Not Jack Sparrow. Will Turner.

But still, whoever Elizabeth loved, she had to spend the next hour pouring all her energy into not blushing every time somebody mentioned the name Ja – excuse me, _Captain_ Jack Sparrow.

(A/N: I know, kinda cliche, the whole denial scene. But it had to happen sooner or later! Next chapter will be the ever-so-famous Curiosity scene, the reason for life for die-hard Sparrabethers, and the bane of the existence of all Willabethers. But please review and tell me, do you think I should carry it over to the whole digging-for-the-chest thing on the island? I never realized there were so many little Sparrabeth moments scattered everywhere - like the _Captain_ Jack Sparrow thing at the beginning of Dead Man's Chest (which I sort of referenced here), and the "It would never have worked out between us" at the end of Curse of the Black Pearl. Just leave a review, please?)


	7. Curiosity

A/N: Okay, so some things are a little messed up now - the new chapter's actually Chapter 3 - Peas in a Pod. I had to fix the order the scenes are in, so that's why this is so messed up. And I also added some little things in some of the chapters - not much really, mainly the Meeting at Tortuga scene, and the Curiosity scene, but also the Finding Jack scene as well. If you want to, please read those scenes, and if you like it (or not), but reviewed for Chapter 3 already, please just review here! Please? Oh, by the way, if you like the new versions better, thank HoistTheColors, for all the tremendous help and useful reviews! Anyway, now, Chapter 7's the famous Curiosity scene, as promised! But it's been done so many times, I kind of feel that my version's the teensiest bit cliched by now. Oh, well. It's still a fun scene to read about!)

**Curiosity  
**_Aboard the Black Pearl, during Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest, when they are going to find the chest of Davy Jones_

Elizabeth was depressed. In fact, she was beyond depressed. She couldn't imagine ever feeling more depressed, nor could she remember feeling as depressed before in her life. In the hassle and worry of the past few days she hadn't had any time to think about it, but now that she was on board the _Pearl _with a definite plan for saving Will, and she'd found a spare moment, it seemed as though her whole life had turned upside down.

Just three weeks ago, she had been getting ready for her wedding, preparing to be a blushing bride for the love of her life, Will Turner. And then, everything that could possibly go wrong had went wrong – raining on her wedding day, being unfairly imprisoned and punished for crimes, getting separated from Will, you name it.

The worst of it was, she wanted desperately to get married, to have her wedding night. She wanted to know what it was like, to be a married woman. But by looking at how complicated life had suddenly become, it could be weeks and weeks before she was finally to have her chance.

Her little talk with Jack from the day before had been weighing heavily on her mind. She had felt strangely eager to be…persuaded. She almost didn't care that it was Jack who would be doing the persuading, she just wanted to know what it was like. But because of Lord Cutler Beckett, it looked like persuasion was the last thing Elizabeth was likely to receive anytime soon.

And that thought, more than any other, depressed her as thoroughly as possible.

...

"My tremendous intuitive sense of the female creature informs me that you are troubled," Jack Sparrow sat down on the steps beside her, rum bottle in hand.

He'd seen her in that very same spot for the past hour, with that same, miserable expression on her face. He didn't even need his intuitive sense of the female creature to know that she was troubled, although it did come in handy other times.

The sun was blazing as fiercely as ever, and yet it seemed like the _Black Pearl_ had its own personal cloud hanging above them. Frankly, Elizabeth's gloom was irritating Jack too much for him to simply continue ignoring it much longer.

Elizabeth looked at Jack for a second. He wasn't exactly the ideal listener, in Elizabeth's opinion, but there he was, asking, in his own peculiar fashion, what was wrong. "I thought I'd be married by now," Elizabeth quietly said, more to herself than to Jack. "I'm so ready to be married."

Incredulously, Jack stared at her for a second, then quickly smoothed out the expression of surprise on his face. He hadn't thought that would be the cause of all the moping. What did a free spirit like Elizabeth Swann want to do with being tied down by bonds of matrimony?

But instead of saying anything like that, Jack silently uncorked the rum bottle and offered it to her. Elizabeth looked at it for a second, then took a sip. She remembered how the liquid managed to make her forget all her problems, or at least, overcome them.

Jack had noticed how Elizabeth hadn't once mentioned being married to Will Turner. She had simply said she wanted to be married – and never specified to whom. She didn't want to be married, Jack realized. She wanted something else entirely. She wanted a new experience. She wanted love. She wanted fun. She wanted sex, he realized suddenly. And out of that observation, Jack got an idea that could possibly lead to something interesting, or at least, make Elizabeth forget that bad mood she was in.

"You know," Jack started, clearing his throat a little. "Lizzie," he added, and immediately liked the sound of the nickname, although he also noticed the resentful surprise on Elizabeth's face. Nobody had called her that since she was six.

"I am captain of a ship. And being captain of a ship, I could in fact, perform a marry-age…right here…right on this deck…right – now," Jack breathed the last word in Elizabeth's face, knowing she would understand what he meant, and she sighed in vexation.

Trust Jack Sparrow to interpret her words that way, and try to use it to his advantage. "No, thank you," Elizabeth curtly replied, and thrust the rum bottle back at Jack. No matter what impression she may have given off the day before during their talk of persuasion, she was not common enough to consent to such cheap antics. Plus, she loved Will.

Jack had known that would probably be her reaction – she was madly in love with Bootstrap Bill's boy, after all – but he still felt slightly hurt by her rejection. Somehow, the image his words conjured up – of Elizabeth in a white low-cut gown joining him at the helm of the _Black Pearl_ as it sailed off towards unknown, kissing him passionately as the crew looked on and cheered – Jack cut off the thought right there. He looked down, and noticed goosebumps rising on his arms. Probably due to a sudden, completely unrelated, chilly breeze. They were quite common in the middle of the day in the Caribbean waters close to the equator, after all.

"Why not?" he asked her, following her across to the rails. "We are very much alike, you and I – I and you – us," he pointed out, liking the sound of that 'you and I' more than he should have.

The truth of what he was saying was too evident to Elizabeth for her liking, and she tried valiantly to prove him wrong. "Except for a sense of honor and decency and a moral center," she corrected him. "And personal hygiene," she added at the last minute, piling insult on injury even though right now she wasn't much cleaner than him. The long days at sea were taking their toll, and she was slowly and reluctantly getting used to it.

Jack sniffed himself, wondering whether it was really that bad. He considered the smell, and decided he'd been worse off. "Trifles," he replied nonchalantly, oddly pleased by Elizabeth's flustered demeanor.

He walked over to her slowly, until he was standing at her shoulder. "You will come over to my side, I know it," he said, smiling confidently.

The conviction in his voice slightly increased the doubt in Elizabeth's mind. Suddenly, a flash of memory – of snuggling into Jack's shoulder to ward off the cool ocean breeze as rum warmed her insides and a bonfire's flames cast shadows on a beach – came to the forefront of her brain, but she hurriedly pushed it away, focusing on the moment at hand. "You seem very certain," she replied, wishing her voice sounded as positive as his.

"One word, love: curiosity." The heat from Jack's body leaning in sent a shiver down her spine, but she convinced herself that it was merely caused by a breeze of some sort. Jack grinned at her, knowing he had her cornered by that word alone. Elizabeth was as curious as a cat. "You long for freedom. You long to do what you want to do because you want it. To act on a selfish impulse. You want to see what it's like. One day, you won't be able to resist," he smirked.

Elizabeth remembered (without blushing, quite a feat!) the compass of yesterday, and how it had pointed at Jack. But then, she remembered Norrington's derisive comments about how it was broken. Anxious to divert Jack's attention, she quickly asked, "Why doesn't your compass work?"

Taken aback by her sudden random question, Jack lost his train of thought. He looked away, trying to collect his thoughts from all the places they had gone – some places more diverting than others. "My compass works fine," he stiffly replied, but he knew he wasn't fooling her. The truth was, he did not know what ailed his compass - or rather, he did know, but was mystified by the reason. What he wanted most in the world was the heart of Davy Jones, right? Not anyone - or anything - else!

But Elizabeth had switched tactics at the speed of light, and now she had the upper hand in the conversation. "Because you and I are alike," Elizabeth admitted, without a trace of the flustered tone of before. "And there will come a moment when you have the chance to show it. To do the right thing." She tilted up her chin as she spoke the last words, emphasizing them, and Jack couldn't help but notice how soft and pink her lips looked.

"I love those moments," Jack retorted sarcastically. "I like to wave at them as they pass by," Jack demonstrated, taking the opportunity to retreat a couple of steps from Elizabeth and her lips.

"You'll have the chance to do something…something courageous," Elizabeth answered, ignoring Jack's remark, as she went to stand beside him on the rails. She was on the offense now, and wasn't about to give up just yet. "And when you do, you'll discover something. That you're a good man."

Jack looked at her face, all serious at the moment, and knew she believed it. But he wasn't a good man, now, was he? He was a bloody pirate, after all! "All evidence to the contrary," he reminded her grimly. He thought of Will, and guilt stabbed at his heart - an unfortunately common occurrence around her.

Elizabeth chuckled lightly. "Oh, I have faith in you," she replied lightly, sneaking a look at his expression. It wasn't nearly as humorous as she had anticipated, Elizabeth realized, a little disappointed – it was more like his face had carefully frozen into place at her words.

Jack was startled by how much he liked hearing somebody say that. Jack considered himself too unpredictable to trust completely, and as far as he knew, nobody had ever trusted him before – except maybe Mr. Gibbs, but he didn't count. So Elizabeth's words, so carelessly said, but with a ring of truth in them, made him feel…touched. And extremely guilty. But he tried to suppress the second emotion.

"Want to know why?" Elizabeth continued, her tone playful, all traces of despondency gone. She enjoyed these games, these little duels with words. Especially when she won.

"Do tell, dearie," he replied briskly, careful not to look at her or let any of his own curiosity seep through to his voice.

Elizabeth leaned close, and whispered huskily, in a copy of Jack's voice, "Curiosity." Jack stiffened automatically at the word. _Not fair!_ He mentally protested. It was quite unfair of her to use his own weapon against him.

"You're going to want it," Elizabeth continued, and she felt a secret tingle in the pit of her stomach when she noticed how his gaze drifted over her pursed lips. "A chance to be admired, and gain the rewards that follow."

Well, all that sounded perfectly lovely to Jack, but truthfully, he was more distracted by Elizabeth's lips, so close to his face. Unless of course, the rewards were of the material kind, not the moral kind.

Elizabeth chuckled once, as she noticed how obviously torn his expression was, as she continued, "You won't be able to resist."

But as she spoke those words, she felt less as though she was talking about Jack, and more as though she was speaking of herself, as she noticed distractedly how his mouth opened just the slightest bit at her words.

"You're going to want to know what it tastes like," she said, and then smacked herself mentally for using the word 'tastes'. She had meant to say 'feels', but the other word just sort of slipped out when she saw that slight parting of Jack's lips at her words. Oh, well. She didn't suppose it mattered much anyway. It wasn't as though that little slip of tongue meant anything.

Jack drew even closer, and confessed, almost as though he was ashamed, "I do want to know what it tastes like." He wondered vaguely whether they were talking about what he thought they were talking about now.

Elizabeth realized what had just happened, and a small part of her – the part that still held on to all those morals ingrained into her at childhood – tried to backtrack. "But," she floundered, as Jack's hand came up to touch the side of her mouth and trace her jawline, "seeing as you're a good man, I know you would never put me in a position that would compromise my honor." But by the time she finished the sentence, she decided that honor wasn't that great of a thing among pirates anyway.

_Well, they'd just have to see about that, wouldn't they?_, Jack thought, as he leaned closer to Elizabeth's pale pink lips. But then, at the last second, he glanced up, and he saw the Black Spot grow darker and bigger on his hand. Shocked by its sudden appearance, he flinched back.

Looking back up at Jack, Elizabeth tried to smile as he drew back from her. They had been so close that she could feel his breath – as intoxicating as the rum he loved so much - mingle with hers. But he hadn't kissed her, like she had thought he would. He had been a good, honorable man. Elizabeth tried to be happy about that, and almost succeeded.

"I'm proud of you, Jack," she nodded, trying to keep her voice from trembling. Jack looked at Elizabeth, her lashes still half-lowered over her eyes, mouth still slightly pursed, and mentally cursed himself for drawing back at such a moment.

"Land ho!" Mr. Gibbs suddenly shouted, and Elizabeth strode off to see what was going on, trying to forget what had just happened, what they had so nearly done.

Jack had half a mind to go after her, to finish what they had started, but he noticed his clenched fist, and remembered the Black Spot. "I want my jar of dirt!" he muttered to himself, and walked off to find it, trying not to think about how close they had been.

(A/N: And that was how they almost kissed! So what did you think? Tell me in your reviews! Again, hint hint...Oh, the next chapter will either be when they are digging for the chest - and what Elizabeth thinks of them just suddenly starting to fight - or it will be when the Kraken attacks, and Elizabeth kills Jack. Coming up shortly! Review, please!)


	8. Digging for the Chest

A/N: I am convinced that there's Sparrabeth in this scene! So I did this before the kiss. Tell me what you thought!)

**Digging for the Chest  
**_When Norrington, Jack and Elizabeth are digging for the chest in Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest, and Will arrives unexpectedly._

The fierce Caribbean sun beat down on Elizabeth's head, as she trudged through the powder-fine sand on the island. The compass was finally leading them to the chest, but somehow that thought didn't cheer her Elizabeth up much at all.

She should have been happy, that they were so close to finding the chest to free Will, but that accursed memory of almost kissing Jack Sparrow – and _wanting_to kiss Jack Sparrow – kept invading the fantasies of her happily ever after with Will.

Just as she thought – yet again – about how close their lips had been, the compass's needle swung around and pointed in a different direction. She looked up in the direction the compass was pointing – and saw Jack Sparrow atop a sand dune.

She concentrated hard on saving Will, and tried opening the compass again. The compass still pointed to Jack. Shaking the stupid compass furiously did no good either, as Elizabeth found out. The needle pointed resolutely at Jack. Frustrated, she flung herself down on the sand. "This doesn't work," she cried, discouraged. "And it certainly doesn't show you what you want most!"

It was very irritating, to have everyone and everything telling her that she loved Jack Sparrow when she was clearly meant to marry Will. Even a bloody magical compass kept pointing her in his direction! Elizabeth tried her hardest to think of Will instead, to conjure up his face in her mind's eye and remember how much she loved him.

Jack walked over, and peered hopefully at the compass. It flicked over to the spot where Elizabeth was sitting, and Jack instantly understood what was happening. She was already standing on whatever she wanted most, so the compass was pointing at what she wanted second-most, and that was confusing her!

"Yes, it does," Jack said, not bothering to hide the excitement in his voice. "You're sitting on it!"

Elizabeth looked up quickly at Jack, confused. "Beg pardon?" she asked, startled.

"Move!" Jack rudely replied, making shooing gestures with his hand as Elizabeth got up. She was of half a mind to be offended, but then thought better of it. The chest was more important.

Jack waved Norrington over, and motioned him to start digging. Rolling his eyes, Norrington grudgingly began digging, slowly and reluctantly.

…

Elizabeth sat on a sand dune, looking at Norrington dig, but not really seeing him. In her mind, she was desperately trying to forget Jack. He complicated things far too much – why did she have to think of him at a time like this?

Jack sat down, legs folded, on the sand, á la meditation. He was trying to focus on the chest. He needed the chest, not Elizabeth. He had to forget the girl. The chest. Not the girl. The chest. Not the girl. The chest. Not the girl. The girl's chest – NO! Jack shook his head to clear his thoughts and refocused. Not the girl. Davy Jones' chest. Not the girl. Davy Jones' chest. The girl was extremely problematic, too unpredictable, and never did what she was told.

And both their thoughts carried on in this vein for a time, until they heard the unmistakable thud of steel on wood. Jack's eyes flew open instantly, and both he and Elizabeth slowly crept over to the hole Norrington had dug. All three peered over, with curious expressions, and were met by the sight of brown wood through white sand.

They hauled up the chest, and Jack broke open the simple lock with the shovel. The real thing – the chest which needed a key – was going to be inside. But when they opened the chest, the top was covered by letters – many, many letters, on old, faded paper. Elizabeth opened one, and begun to read one of them, but before she could go any more than the greeting, she was distracted by Jack pulling out the black oak chest buried underneath the letters.

All three of them leaned in closer, and through the walls of the chest came the unmistakable thumping sound of a beating heart.

"It's real," Elizabeth quietly whispered, recoiling slightly, staring incredulously at the chest. She had doubted Jack's word on there actually being a chest, but here was the proof, staring her in the face. Proof that she was right to trust Jack, despite whatever Norrington may say.

"You actually were telling the truth," Norrington remarked, blatant disbelief in his tone.

"I do that quite a lot; yet people are always surprised," Jack replied easily, with a flippancy he didn't quite feel. He didn't let it show how thankful he was that his plan had worked, that the chest really was here.

"With good reason!" a very familiar out-of-breath voice called. Elizabeth glanced up quickly to see Will – wet, soggy and very rumpled, but Will, nonetheless, standing in front of her, barely five yards away.

"Will," she whispered to herself, hardly daring to believe her eyes. For a second she thought it was her imagination, creating an image of Will so she could forget about Jack. She ran over to the drenched, soaking-wet man, a smile breaking out over her face as she realized he was actually here. "You're alright, thank god!" she exclaimed breathlessly. "I came to find you!"

Their lips found each other, and they kissed. Elizabeth pushed away the image of Jack Sparrow's face from the back of her eyelids, and pressed her mouth to Will's even more fiercely to make up for it. _And because I want to kiss Will after weeks apart_, she reasoned with herself.

Jack watched with distaste as the happy couple kissed passionately. All right, he knew they were in love, and had been separated for weeks and all that, but could they not control themselves in the presence of others? After all, Norrington here had once loved Elizabeth - could they not respect his emotions?

"How did you get here?" Jack called, when it looked like they were about done.

"Sea turtles, mate," Will answered sarcastically. "A pair of them, strapped to my feet."

"Not so easy, is it?" Jack smirked, pretending to take Will's biting words as the truth.

"But I do owe you thanks, Jack," Will told him.

"You do?" Jack asked, slightly confused, a spark of hope igniting.

Will nodded, but something on his face told Jack that his news was not good news. "After you tricked me on that ship to square your debt with Jones –"

"What?" Elizabeth asked, looking at Jack with a horrified expression.

"What?" Jack echoed, and he stopped grinding his teeth together, trying to seem innocent. Could the young whipper-snapper not keep its jaws shut at all? Always had to say something, our Master Turner.

"I was reunited with my father," Will finished.

"Oh - well," Jack grimaced, trying to ignore Elizabeth's accusatory glare. There was only one thing to say, and he said it. "You're welcome, then"

Elizabeth let go of Will, and strode angrily towards Jack. "Everything you said to me…every word was a lie!" she accused, her voice wobbling a little at the end. She had trusted him – and he had lied to her yet again. She knew it – she had known it from the start, that there was something Jack Sparrow was keeping from her. But she had trusted him – had just taken it for granted that whatever he did was going to help her save Will, not keep them apart!

"Pretty much," Jack admitted, feeling slightly ashamed. He spread his hands wide in apology. "Time and tide, love," he added, by way of explanation. More apologies were in order, but before he could say anything, the sound of a knife being unsheathed rang through the air.

"Oi!" he called to Will, who was bending down beside the chest. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to kill Jones," Will replied, absorbed in opening the chest.

In a fluid motion, Jack had his own sword out and pointing at Will. "Can't let you do that, William," Jack informed him gravely. Typical of Master Turner, always act without reasoning something through. "Because if Jones is dead, who's to call his terrible beastie off the hunt, eh?"

Looking at Jack's sharp blade, Will slowly straightened and stood up. "Now," Jack continued, stretching out his hand. "if you please...the key."

Staring openmouthed at Jack, Elizabeth was not sure what to do. She was just about to pull out her own sword - or rather, a sword she had borrowed from Jack - when Will suddenly grabbed at her waist, took her sword, and pointed its tip at Jack. "I keep the promises I make, Jack," Will said. "I intend to free my father. I hope you're here to see it."

Suddenly, another blade was pointed at Will. "I can't let you do that either." Norrington threatened, a dangerous tone in his voice. "So sorry." Elizabeth stared at all three men, wondering if they had suddenly contracted a strange form of madness only males were susceptible to.

"I knew you'd warm up to me eventually!" Jack called cheerily, lowering his sword. Immediately, Norrington's sword swung around to face him, and Will's pointed at Norrington. Quickly, Jack whipped up his own sword in the whelp's direction. _Perfect_, he thought disgustedly. A triangular swordfight just when he was so close to getting the chest and escaping home-free.

Elizabeth stared disbelievingly at the three men. Weren't they just digging peacefully for the chest less than five minutes ago? And now, they were going to kill each other over it. What exactly was wrong with a spirited debate, she'd like to know?

"Lord Beckett desires the contents of that chest," James spoke slowly. "I deliver it, I get my life back."

Elizabeth felt a flash of pity for the former Commodore. Everything had gone wrong for him after Jack Sparrow had eluded the gallows, and not all of it was his fault.

"Ah," Jack breathed. "The dark side of ambition," he pronounced, as though it was a curse, smiling grimly all the time.

"Oh, I prefer to think of it as the promise of redemption," Norrington countered, and with a cry, he lunged at Will. The battle had begun.

Elizabeth shrieked in fright at the unexpectedness of the attack. But did any one of them care? Not in the least. "Stop it!" she insisted, but none of them heard her. They ran across the sand, Jack grabbing the key and dashing off like his namesake monkey. Norrington kicked Will onto the sand, and with a cry of "Will!" Elizabeth rushed to his side, dropping to her knees.

He looked at her for a second, and ordered, "Guard the chest!" as he got up and chased after Norrington.

Elizabeth stared at him in shocked disbelief. "No!" she retorted, rudely and rather disobediently, and ran after him instead. Is that all he could say, after seeing his fiancée for the first time in three or four weeks? Just a kiss, and then immediately start fighting with Jack and James?

"This is barbaric!" she yelled at them furiously, as Norrington nearly lopped off Jack's head. "This is no way for grown men to settle - OH, FINE!" she screamed at them at the top of her lungs, wondering whether any of them could even hear her.

…

Jack was extremely busy. Both Norrington and Will were very good swordsmen - perhaps even better than himself, he grimly admitted. It was all he could do to hold his own in the battle. Still, it was quite amusing to hear what he could of Elizabeth's tirade over the clang of steel meeting steel, yelling at them all to stop. And she was right - this was no way for grown men to settle arguments - unless you were a pirate. Distractedly, he wondered what she would make of the Brethren Court - and then blocked Will's swipe to his neck just in time.

"Let's just pull out our swords, and start banging away at each other, that's going to solve everything!" Elizabeth screamed the last words at them, feeling the last straw break the back of her anger. "I've had it! I've had it with wobbly-legged, rum-soaked PIRATES!"

She picked up a stone - more of a rock, really - from the sand, and hurled it aimlessly at the knot of three fighting men. "Enough!" she tried to order, and threw more rocks at them when they didn't listen. Of course, the rocks all fell short a few feet, to Elizabeth's great disappointment. She had the feeling that things would be much simpler if one of the men – or two, even better, three was too much to hope for - could be knocked out for a while.

"This is madness!" Elizabeth shrieked at them, her voice sounding eerily like a banshee, and Jack desperately wanted to reply that it was simply business, but he was too busy dodging Norrington and young Turner. Really, she shouldn't keep yelling things like that, it was quite distracting, and might possibly result in Jack with his head cut off and his soul trapped on the_Flying Dutchman_ forever.

"Enough!" Elizabeth shouted again. Helplessly, she stared at the men, still obsessively banging away with the swords. It was hard to believe that just an hour ago, one of them had been trying to convince her to marry him. In fact, the way they were ignoring her now, it was as though all of them had forgotten that at some point of time in the past year, each one of them had asked for her hand.

Remembering that fact made her also recall a very useful distraction - the faint-and-fall. Perhaps if she fainted...it was worth a shot. After all, the first time she had fainted, Jack had saved her from a watery grave, and the second time she had pretended to faint, her father and Norrington had fussed over her for a good five minutes.

"Oh," she called, putting a hand to her forehead. "OOH!" she tried again, raising her voice. "FAINT!" she called, and toppled sideways. She immediately cracked open one eye to see if it had worked, saw the men were still fighting, and sighed in exasperation. Perhaps the faint-and-fall only counted when she was in a skirt, and for the first time, wished for her dress back.

In fact, Jack had noticed, and had had quite a good view of Elizabeth's dramatic performance, before Norrington's sword clanged with Will's right in front of his nose. It was a very good, theatrical faint, and would have had young Master Turner rushing over, if he hadn't had his mind set on the key. But still, the fact remained that it was a fake faint, and Jack wasn't about to risk his life again for a fake faint.

A second later, Elizabeth sat up, and crossed her arms defiantly, in the air she used to use many years ago when she was throwing a tantrum. She would not stir until they finished fighting, and apologized to her. No, she would not move from this spot, no matter how much they pleaded. Not even if they begged. No, sir!

And then she heard a whisper of sand disturbed behind her, and she looked over her shoulder to see the two pirates – who she could have sworn had died along with Barbossa – Pintel and Ragetti running away with the chest. Immediately, Elizabeth scrambled to her feet, and ran after them. _Men,_she thought in disgust. _Bloody treacherous pirates, each and every one of them!_

(A/N: I thought this was a good opportunity for Elizabeth to sort of reflect on all three men – add a little girl pride to the story. If the lack of Sparrabeth disappointed you, fear not! The next one will have loads, seeing as it's the famous kiss scene! Read and review, please!)


	9. Killed with a Kiss

(A/N: The kiss scene, as promised, at last! Enjoy!)

**Killed with a Kiss  
**_How Elizabeth Swann killed Captain Jack Sparrow, at the end of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest._

Everywhere Elizabeth looked, pirates were bustling around, grabbing guns, loading cannons, everything that could possibly be done. But she couldn't help but wonder, were they any match against the King of the Sea, the Kraken?

"Step to," she ordered a man, trying not to think so negatively, and was just about to hurry past, when a black dot against the blue waters of the ocean caught her eye. Fearing that it was the Kraken making an early appearance, Elizabeth turned, only to see Captain Jack Sparrow, alone in the longboat, rowing as fast as he could away from the _Pearl_.

"You coward," Elizabeth whispered, shocked and appalled by Jack's callous attitude towards his men and his ship. She'd always thought he was a good man, a brave man, despite being a pirate. But he had proven her wrong. And that thought suddenly depressed her more than anything ever had in her life.

Just then, a shudder ran through the ship. Elizabeth clutched at the rope she held to stop from falling over. It was here. The Kraken. And it was going to take down the ship. Without its cowardly captain.

Eight tentacles burst through the portholes on the lower deck, splintering wood and cracking the ship. Elizabeth resumed action, handing out guns, pistols, swords, anything that could be used against the Kraken. But all the while, she couldn't stop thinking about Jack - almost grieving for Jack, as strange as that may sound.

How could Jack possibly abandon his ship, the _Black Pearl_, the pride and joy of his entire sailing career? Even though the Kraken was coming after it, surely Jack wasn't going to stand aside and just let it take the ship without a fight? Somehow, Elizabeth didn't think so. And she kept puzzling over it, her mind busy with this problem as her hands thrust weapons into pirates' arms.

The only possible thing Jack could prize beyond his ship was his own life. That was probably the only thing he would ever put above the _Pearl_. And no sooner had Elizabeth thought that than she figured out the truth. The Kraken wasn't after the _Pearl_. It was after Jack.

...

Jack's arms ached from the repeated strain of rowing. He was extremely out of practice with his oarsmanship. He let his arms relax for a moment, and couldn't help but glance at the ship in front of him. His _Pearl_. As he watched, slithery tentacles climbed up its side, and he felt a dull ache inside his chest.

Looking back at the dark shadow of land, far away, gauging the distance. His arms hurt reflexively at the distance his brain came up with. Jack turned back to the front, and watched helplessly as the Kraken broke some more of his ship.

He was escaping, escaping with his life intact. As soon as he got to shore, he would be home-free. What more could he want?

A sudden memory of a girl with long golden hair blowing back in the wind, sharp brown eyes gazing out into the a horizon, standing tall by the rails of a familiar ship with black sails, swam in front of his eyes. He rubbed them tiredly, convinced it was sea salt that made them sting. All of a sudden, he wasn't so sure which direction was the right way to go. Front or back?

Habit made him grab his compass, even though it had not been working for Jack of late. He flicked it open, and watched as the needle pointed decisively straight ahead of him.

...

Tentacles, slimy, long, Kraken tentacles everywhere. Surrounding the ship, snatching pirates from overhead, breaking the ship apart. And Will was up there, amongst all the tentacles, as he hung from the net full of barrels of gunpowder, trying to draw the Kraken in as bait, while Elizabeth had to watch from below.

She had one shot. She could not miss, and that made her extremely nervous. Good with a sword though she was, a gun was a different matter. Elizabeth was only a relatively fair shot with a gun.

And now, she could see, Will's foot was stuck in the net. He wasn't free yet, but a tentacle was coming dangerously close to the barrels. "Shoot!" Will yelled at her from overhead. "Elizabeth, shoot!"

But she couldn't. Will was in the way. And she couldn't very well shoot Will. She loved him. Hesitating, she followed the swing of the net with the barrel - and then screamed in terror and let go of the gun, as a slimy rope wrapped around her ankle and dragged her back. She clawed desperately at floorboards, not caring that her arms were burning from the contact, that her fingernails were breaking off.

Twisting around, she saw Ragetti with an axe, and she saw him swing it down - and suddenly, the pressure around her ankle ceased abruptly, and she stopped moving. Remembering the rifle, she scrambled back on deck, just in time to see a man grab it, and then get snatched up by a tentacle, screaming in terror and dropping the rifle on the helm.

Elizabeth hurried up the stairs towards the helm, but fell onto her hands and knees as another impact shook the boat. Uncaring, she scrabbled up the stairs and was just about to grab the rifle when a man's boot landed solidly on it. She stared at it for a moment, and then furiously attacked it, trying to pry it off the rifle. Suddenly, it occurred to her that she knew these boots - knew the wearer of these boots too - and had been trying not to think of the wearer the past fifteen minutes or so. She looked up, and found the face of Captain Jack Sparrow gazing back down at her.

Her mood instantly changed, the corners of her mouth turned up into a relieved smile. Jack was here. He could shoot the gunpowder barrels, and he wouldn't miss. And everything would turn out all right. Things always ended right when Jack was around.

She surrendered the rifle quickly, and grabbed what she thought was the stair's rail, hugging it, trying to release all her tension into that grip. She didn't even move when she realized it was actually Jack's leg - she was too intent in watching the barrels swing overhead amongst the tentacles, and Jack aiming his shot at them, their only hope at escape.

...

Jack was shocked at the fierce expression on Elizabeth's face. Her desperation at trying to save everyone was marring her features, savaging her face. She still looked beautiful, but much older, more tired. But her eyes lost that frantic look as they met his searching gaze, and her snarling mouth relaxed into its usual familiar smile.

She looked almost deliriously happy to see him, and that in itself was a rather worrying thought, that she was desperate enough to be glad to see an old unpredictable scallywag like Jack. What job had Turner given her now? Didn't he realize no matter how independent Elizabeth was, there were some things you don't leave on the shoulders of a woman?

Jack decisively grabbed the rifle and aimed carefully. He didn't need Elizabeth's crablike grip on his knee to remind him how important this was. Everyone's lives depended on him, especially the one of the girl gripping his leg, and this was one time he wasn't about to let anyone down. It all came down to this one shot. He had to focus.

As though in slow motion, young Turner dropped from the net, finally free, and a barrel came tumbling out with him. His face screwed up in concentration, Jack pulled the trigger, already knowing it would find its mark. The bullet, that tiny ball of destruction, pierced through the barrel, and the sky was suddenly aflame. It was suddenly raining fire, the sky darker than before, veiled with black smoke, the Kraken's flaming tentacles flailing in the air, as it roared in pain, deep underwater.

The silence that followed seemed to mock the pandemonium of a few moments before. The crew hardly dared breathe for fear the Kraken would return. "Did we kill it?" Marty asked at last.

"No," Mr. Gibbs replied. Much as he would have liked to say yes, he knew the Kraken wasn't dead yet. "We just made it angry." There was another short silence, as the crew realized what that meant. "We're not out of this yet," Gibbs muttered, and then rushed towards Jack. "Cap'n! Orders!"

"Abandon ship. Into the longboat," Jack grimly informed him, handing Gibbs the rifle as he strode down the stairs. He couldn't see any other way open, not if every human life was to be saved. Jack realized suddenly that Mr. Gibbs probably hadn't even noticed he had left. Elizabeth, on the other hand, he reflected, from her reaction to him, had definitely noticed. Of course the girl would notice. Very few things escaped her notice unscathed.

"Jack!" Mr. Gibbs called from behind him. "The _Pearl__!_" Those two words, spoken in such a horrified tone, cut Jack deeper than anything ever had. Gibbs, more than anyone else, understood how much the ship meant to Jack. But what could he do? The _Pearl_ was not fit to sail, and they needed to reach land immediately. Jack knew that even in the longboat, they had a less than likely chance of making it back, even if he wasn't the one doing the rowing.

"She's only a ship, mate," Jack replied, his voice lacking confidence, his tone as somber as anyone had ever had the misfortune to hear it. He had sailed across the oceans in useless little dinghies, trying to track down the _Pearl_ for eleven years. And now, he was going to give up the _Pearl_ to the Kraken. It was possibly the worst day of Jack's life.

"He's right, we have to head for land," Elizabeth cut in, barely able to look at Jack's grave face. But then, Elizabeth remembered, he couldn't go with them in the longboat. The Kraken would surely come for him again, and in a longboat, they didn't stand a chance. She realized the implications of what she had just thought, and with a shiver, turned her attention back to Will.

" - We can get away as it takes down the _Pearl_."

Mr. Gibbs nodded quietly. "Abandon ship," he repeated, grim finality in his voice. "Abandon ship, or abandon hope!" And with that, he strode away to unload everyone into the longboat, away from his precious_Pearl_.

Elizabeth looked at Jack, wondering how they were to get away, but when she saw the look on his face, everything melted away from her head except pity. All her fantasies of yelling at him for lying to her, for abandoning them, all faded away. His expression was carefully neutral, but glimmers of grief came through his eyes, as though he was losing not a ship, but a friend. And all of a sudden, Elizabeth understood why he had come back, why he couldn't go, and exulted in her mind when she realized she was right about him being a good man.

...

_She's been a good ship_, Jack thought quietly. The crew was unloading into the longboat, but he needed a few more moments with his _Pearl_. His last moments with his _Pearl_. He touched the night-black mast lovingly, and stared wistfully up at the sails - the famed sails that could blend into the night, that could outrun even the _Flying_ _Dutchman_.

"Thank you, Jack," he heard Elizabeth say from behind him, and he turned slowly to face her.

She obviously didn't know how little of a chance they had of making it. That was unusual. Despite her youth, Elizabeth was generally quick on the uptake, except when that whelp Will was involved. "We're not free yet, love," Jack reminded her quietly.

Elizabeth smiled a little at him, although she knew he was right. And they would never be free if Jack came with them. An honorable man would remain behind with that knowledge, but Elizabeth doubted that Jack would do the same. He was a good man, yes, but an honorable man, never. So he had to be made to stay back. And she, Elizabeth, would have to do it.

In those few seconds, she came up with a plan. A plan so simple, and yet so daring, it couldn't fail to work. There were a pair of long-forgotten handcuffs attached to the mast - deckhand rumor had it that Jack was once chained to that very mast when Barbossa mutinied against his captaincy. Elizabeth would push Jack against the mast, clamp the handcuffs around his wrist, and go. There was no other way they could survive.

She looked at Jack, trying not to give away anything in her expression. He was a pirate, and a scoundrel. He had almost left them alone to the Kraken. But he was a good man. He had come back, and saved them - temporarily.

Jack wondered what Elizabeth was thinking, with her eyes brimming full of appreciation and admiration. Her gratitude seemed rather ostentatious. Something was off here, but Jack couldn't quite figure out what.

"You came back," Elizabeth said simply. Jack Sparrow may have been a pirate, but he had still been a good man. She walked closer to him and whispered, "I always knew you were a good man." And that was one piece of knowledge she had to keep reminding herself of. He was a good man, no matter what anybody said.

Hesitantly, Elizabeth looked at Jack's lips. They were so close to her own, so close, she could almost taste them, for the second time that same day. She suddenly wondered what they felt like, what they tasted like. Slowly, she inched closer to Jack, as she decided to find out for herself.

Jack could hardly believe what Elizabeth was doing. He leaned in at the last second, when he realized she was truly going to kiss him. Forget all that 'compromising her honor' crap. She wanted this as much as he did, although she could scarcely be enjoying it more. Elizabeth's lips, though dry and chapped from sea breezes, were still soft, and felt wonderful against Jack's own. It felt as though all his problems - the Kraken, Davy Jones, everything - slipped away, and there was only him and Elizabeth, aboard the _Black Pearl_, sailing away towards freedom into the sunset.

For Elizabeth, the effect was instant and immediate. Every sense of hers was drawn in to Jack, and Jack only. He tasted and smelled predictably of rum, but his lips had that same intoxicating effect as rum, that made Elizabeth want more. She felt his arm curve across her back, pulling her in closer, and she put her arms around his neck, drawing her up until their bodies were pressed together. And she felt happy, alive, relaxed, safe in his arms, as only Jack Sparrow ever could make her feel.

This was nothing like kissing Will. Will kissed carefully, like he did everything else. He kissed her like she was made of glass, to be protected and cherished. Elizabeth had thought that was wonderful, had liked the respect Will showed her, but Jack's possessive arm around her waist, his easy way of pulling her so close to him, opened a whole new world of possibilities to Elizabeth.

From far away, she heard Mr. Gibbs' voice, yelling at somebody. "Prepare to cast off, there's no time to lose!" And those words woke Elizabeth up surer than any bucket of cold water. They had to escape now, and they had to escape without Jack. Slowly, she pushed him back, walking forward a few steps, until he hit the mast.

…

Something had changed. Jack could feel it in the way she loosened her hold on him. But she drew close again, and somehow, made him push back into the mast. Her fingers traveled lightly down his arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and then, Jack was instantly alert, woken up by a sharp click reverberate through the air, and an unpleasant pinching sensation on his wrist.

It was possibly the hardest thing Elizabeth had ever had to do. And yet it was so easy. With only a sharp click, the pirate was chained to the mast. Elizabeth pressed her lips to his one last time, and slowly drew back, preparing herself for the confrontation. Her eyes opened fiercely, and nearly glared at Jack, trying to hide the tears gathering in the corners.

Jack could never have imagined such a look on Elizabeth's face. A look of almost hate, mixed with fear, mixed with - pain? Sadness? He couldn't tell. Her overly bright eyes were boring down into his own as intensely as her lips had been just a few seconds ago.

But as he realized what she had done, what her plan had been all along, a smile of admiration stretched out on his face. He tried to be angry, betrayed, but here she was, doing what she could to save her own skin. She was doing what she had to, so she and the crew could survive. She, and she alone, had figured out what was happening, and had taken measures against it. Jack knew it would be more reasonable to be furious at such a time, but right now, he was awed beyond anything he had been before.

Elizabeth was feeling much worse, now that she had done the deed. All the old tiredness, the same worries, came flooding back to her. And she couldn't understand Jack's look at all. Didn't he understand what had just happened. Why was he smiling at her as though - as though he approved? She tried to glare harder at him, focusing all her hate on him, although it felt...wrong. She felt much more like crying than hating at that moment.

"It's after you, not the ship," Elizabeth told Jack, her voice trembling from the strain of holding back tears. "It's not us." She stared at him a second longer, wondering if he could possibly understand what she had done. "This is the only way, don't you see?"

Of course he saw. Jack knew very well that with him gone, the crew could easily escape. He was just amazed that she had seen that as well. Not only seen that, made sure it happened! Vaguely, he wondered how much of it had been an act - was the kiss just a distraction as well? Trust Elizabeth to kiss a man one minute and chain him to the mast of a doomed ship the next second.

Drawing closer, Elizabeth toyed with the idea of kissing him again - just so he could have a good memory lingering with him as he departed. Not that she actually wanted to, although her lips parted at the mere thought of Jack's mouth on hers again. At the last second, she pulled herself away, as something inside her warned her that she might not be able to leave him there if she did.

She desperately wanted to stay with Jack for a few more minutes. But what was left to say? Apologies? She wasn't about to apologize for anything - she had done what she had had to do, and she shouldn't be apologizing for it. "I'm not sorry," she defiantly told Jack. And she wasn't sorry she had chained him to the mast. It was the only way, after all. But she was sorry - terribly, terribly sorry, that she had had to do it.

Jack knew better than her what she was and wasn't sorry for, and it struck him how different this girl was from the girl he had rescued from drowning barely a year ago. That girl had been a lady pleading for the cause of a pirate. This girl was a pirate - a full-fledged pirate. Unlike Master William, for whom piracy ran in the blood, Miss Swann here was a pirate in her soul. "Pirate," he whispered at her, his voice still husky from her kiss.

Elizabeth wasn't sure whether she that was something good or not, but looking at Jack's face, at the complete and utter approval written on his face, she felt a fleeting sense of pride, of accomplishment, and she firmly lifted up her chin. And then she remembered why Jack was chained to a mast, and her heart constricted, a physical pang of pain striking her. Without another word, she whirled around and strode away into the longboat, and the most fascinating woman Jack had ever had the misfortune to meet departed from his life.

...

"Where's Jack?" Will asked Elizabeth as soon as she entered the longboat, his voice almost challenging, spitting out Jack's name.

Elizabeth looked at his face, startled by his almost-angry tone. Why was he angry with her now? She thought about telling him the truth, telling him what she had done, but she couldn't look at his face, looking uncharacteristically judgmental, and tell him that she, Elizabeth Swann, the daughter of Governor Swann of Port Royale, soon to be Elizabeth Turner, wife of a respectable well-established blacksmith, had left Captain Jack Sparrow behind for the Kraken.

"He elected to stay behind to give us a chance," Elizabeth replied brusquely. All the crew's horrified eyes turned to the deck, and nobody made a single movement, as they considered what Jack - or so they thought - had done.

"Go!" Elizabeth ordered Pintel, the urgency and miserable fury in her voice prodding him into action. She was almost debating whether she should go free Jack - she needed to get away before she undid what she had just done. And so they pushed off into the ocean, while Elizabeth tried not to cry from the misery, guilt, and shame building up inside of her.

...

"Bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger!" Jack muttered repeatedly as he tried to free his wrist from the mast. It had taken him about five seconds after Elizabeth left to realize that he did not want to die, even at the doing of such a charming girl as Miss Swann. Too bad if it would undo the good she would have done for the world; frankly, Jack did not care as long as he lived.

Something hit the ship from below, and caused it to tilt ominously to starboard. Jack knew, with a foreboding sense of dread, exactly what it was. Turning around, he saw a cannonball, rolling to the other side, and then his eyes met a lamp...

Instantly, his eyes lit up as he came up with a plan. Drawing out his sword, he snagged the lamp on its tip, and smashed it against the mast. Jack poured the oil in the lamp down his hand, making it slippery to the touch. With oil as his lubricant, he tried to twist his hand free of the handcuffs. With a pleased smile, he staggered free, but almost immediately, that sense of foreboding he associated with the Kraken grew stronger and stronger.

Apprehensively, Jack turned slowly, and was met by the sight of the dreaded beastie itself. The Kraken. It opened its mouth and roared, and Jack was nearly blown away by the force and smell of it all. And Elizabeth had thought Jack's hygiene was bad! To top it all off, several huge strands of white, gooey saliva came blasting out straight onto Jack.

Once the beast stopped, Jack shuddered at the cold, slimy feel of its saliva draped around him, and wiped some off his face. "Not so bad," he decided, preferring to die optimistically. After all, the saliva could have been poisonous, or could have burned his skin right off or something.

"Oh, look!" Jack exclaimed to himself, spotting his old, three-cornered hat on the floor next to him, also covered in Kraken-spit. He picked it up, shaking off the worst of the saliva, and arranged it on his head.

He looked at the Kraken, sizing it up. So this was what was going to kill him. A fitting end, he supposed, that the King of the Sea should end the life of the greatest pirate in history. What was the use of being humble as you looked upon your death?

"'Ello, beastie," he greeted the Kraken, a fierce expression, almost a smirk, covering his face. If he was going to die, he might as well do it proper.

And with a familiar swishing clang of unsheathing steel, he took out his sword and charged into the Kraken's many-toothed mouth, entering it willfully rather than being forced into his fate. Jack had always believed in meeting unpleasant things dead-on (unless of course, the option of running away was feasible). And so, he brandished his cutlass one last time, his tri-corner captain's hat secured firmly on his head, and charged. And that was how the most fearsome pirate who ever lived, died.

...

_Don't look, don't look, don't look_, Elizabeth kept chanting to herself inside her head. She would not look at the _Pearl_ being devoured by the Kraken, she would not look, she would not -

But a particularly loud, angry roar rose from the beast, and Elizabeth found her head involuntarily turning, and watching as tentacles, at least six of them, pulled the _Black_ _Pearl_down through the choppy blue waves, the most famed pirate ship in all of the world buried beneath the waves, along with its captain, the most famed pirate in all of the world. Who was dead because of Elizabeth. She had killed Captain Jack Sparrow.

She hadn't realized how much guilt would weigh. It felt like a rock pressed upon her shoulders, that she and she alone could carry. And she had thought that knowing it was the only way would ease some of that guilt, but it did nothing, except impress upon her the futility of her situation. Jack Sparrow was gone. Will Turner was ignoring her. And there was nobody left whose tremendous intuitive sense of the female creature could inform him that she was troubled.

Nobody quite knew where they were going. Mr. Gibbs and some of the men spoke of going 'upriver', and Elizabeth guessed that was what they had done. She didn't even know how long it took - a day, maybe two?

A procession of ladies - beautiful ladies with dark skin - each holding a candle, greeted them as they made their way 'upriver'. Elizabeth wasn't aware of too much, but she knew she met Tia Dalma, the strange witch doctor lady, whom she had heard the crew discuss before, but never had personally met.

But still, despite everything new she was seeing, she felt... cold, foggy, nearer sleep than alertness, and she didn't particularly care, either. Jack Sparrow was gone. And she had killed him. That was all that mattered.

She desperately wished Jack was here, that his tricks and distractions, or simply his presence, could distract her from the pain. _If only Jack were here, _Elizabeth found herself thinking, _he would stop me from feeling like this._ Jack could never tolerate self-pity or disappointment or any negative emotions for long, not in anybody, not even himself. Elizabeth wondered for a moment if that was why Jack spent so much of his time drunk – to keep away the bad feelings – and then mentally snorted at the idea. No, Jack just likes his rum. _Liked _his rum. The past tense effectively sobered Elizabeth up once more.

The witch doctor, Tia Dalma, came up to Elizabeth, holding a tray with a mug full of some drink on it. She was about to refuse, but then Tia Dalma spoke. "Against the cold...and the sorrow." And somehow, Elizabeth felt that she understood, she knew what Elizabeth had done. And she wasn't judging Elizabeth, merely offering her a drink. And so, Elizabeth took the mug from the tray.

"The _Pearl'_s gone...along with its captain," Will's words broke through the haze around Elizabeth's mind.

"Aye," Mr. Gibbs agreed. "And already the world seems a little bit bright." Elizabeth couldn't help agreeing with that statement. She wasn't sure sunlight had even existed after the _Pearl_ sunk into the waves. "He fooled us all, right up to the end," Mr. Gibbs continued, "But I guess that honest streak finally won out."

Honest streak? Jack had an honest streak? For a split second, Elizabeth felt like laughing, despite her foggy brain, but then she remembered how Jack had really 'elected to stay behind' and all the humor in the situation evaporated into thin air.

"To Jack Sparrow!" Mr. Gibbs spoke, raising his cup for a toast, a ring of loyalty in his voice Elizabeth had rarely ever heard before.

"Never another man like Captain Jack!" Ragetti chimed in, his voice sounding suspiciously choked, as though he was going to cry. Elizabeth could definitely agree with him. Jack was an original, one-of-a-kind person; nobody could even come close to being Captain Jack.

"He was a gentleman of fortune, he was," Pintel called, raising his cup in the air. Well, Elizabeth wouldn't go that far - Jack was nothing like a gentleman, thank goodness. Gentlemen would never have been able to do half the things that Jack had done in his lifetime.

She felt as though she had to say something true, something more accurate about Jack, but all she could come up with was the phrase that had been running through her head all day. "He was a good man," Elizabeth spoke for the first time, quickly raising her mug as well. She brought the mug to her lips, but the liquid didn't smell that good anymore, and she wasn't thirsty, or hungry...or anything, really. And she sunk into brooding once again.

"If there was anything to be done, to bring him back...," Will spoke, looking at her with something akin to sympathy. Elizabeth raised her head out of the fog again, and looked questioningly at Will. "Elizabeth..."

"Would you do it?" cut in Tia Dalma, her voice louder, harsher, sharper than before. "Hmm?" She turned towards Elizabeth and asked her, "What would you do? Hmm?" She turned and faced the whole crew. "What would any of you be willing to do? Hmm?" And she continued, a strange expression coming over her face. "Would you sail to the ends of the Earth - and beyond - to fetch back witty Jack...and him precious _Pearl_?"

There was a loud deafening silence. Elizabeth couldn't figure out what the witch doctor meant. Was there a way to get Jack back, undo what she had done? Mr. Gibbs was the first to speak. "Aye," he proclaimed, strongly and clearly.

"Aye," Pintel spoke as well, face drawn up in a frown.

"Aye," Ragetti echoed quickly.

"Squawk! Aye!" Cotton's parrot called out.

Elizabeth quietly nodded softly to herself. She had put Jack in the Locker, and she would get him out. Of course she would go. "Yes," she quietly whispered, a strange contrast to all the loud 'Ayes' going around.

"Aye," Will whispered last, his voice as low as Elizabeth's.

"All right!" Tia Dalma breathed, her face excited. "But if you go and brave the weird and haunted shores at world's end, you will need a captain who knows those waters."

Footsteps echoed on the stairs, and as one, the whole crew slowly gathered at the bottom of the stairs, behind Tia Dalma. Surely Elizabeth knew that strong tread? And surely, that person had been shot? Before her very eyes? Hadn't he died?

"So tell me," Barbossa said, looking and sounding exactly as Elizabeth remembered. "What become of my ship?" And as the monkey clambered onto his shoulder, he took a great crunching bite out of the green apple he had in his hand. And he laughed, a low, powerful laugh.

Barbossa had died. Elizabeth knew he had died, seen it with her very own eyes. And yet, he was here. And Barbossa was about Jack's equal in most ways – there were many similarities between the two pirates, whether they liked it or not. And if Barbossa, who had died, and Pintel and Ragetti and so many others who should have been dead but had not died, could come back from the dead, so could Jack, who had always done the impossible and made it look easy.

And for the first time since the _Pearl_ had gone down, Elizabeth felt hope. _Captain Jack Sparrow will be back_, a voice in her head said, sounding suspiciously like a familiar black-haired, black-hearted, rum-loving pirate she knew. _Never you worry, love._

(A/N: Phew! Finally done! I hope you liked this chapter, because I think this is the best so far - my favorite, tied with the island scene...what do you think? It turned out much longer than I expected it would. So, if you've read it up to here, please review it! And the other new chapters and stuff, if you don't mind - I know I kind of messed things up with the whole Peas in a Pod scene, but I really couldn't resist! You know what, I'm just rambling now - REVIEW!)


	10. In Davy Jones' Locker

(A/N: I know it's been a while since an update. School started this week, so I've been busy. Finally got the chance to type this up! Hope you like it! I know it doesn't exactly transition as well from the previous chapter as they usually do, but I couldn't really find a good transition…so this is all I got. Enjoy!)

**In Davy Jones' Locker  
**_When Elizabeth and the rest of the crew go to rescue Jack from the Locker, in Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End_

Leaking sea water out of her boots with every step, Elizabeth Swann trudged up onto the white-sanded beach of Davy Jones' Locker. Everywhere she looked, looked the same. White, fine-grained sand, almost glaring in the bright sunshine, powdered over hills and dunes.

It could be considered beautiful, Elizabeth supposed, but somehow, it wasn't. There was an eerie feeling around the place, as though this was all a man could ever see here. Nothing changing, no other sign of life, just land and land and land. Just the thing to dampen the cheer of any sea-loving creature. And it was working well - it was making Elizabeth even more dispirited than she already was.

"This truly is a godforsaken place," Gibbs spoke, somewhere to Elizabeth's right, echoing her feelings exactly.

"I don't see Jack. I don't see anyone," Elizabeth observed, a hint of the hopelessness she felt seeping into her voice, making it quiver slightly. Everything she knew and loved was riding on this - that they find Jack Sparrow as soon as possible.

After all, it was partly her fault that Jack wasn't there - although she had only been doing what she had had to do. She had killed Jack, to save the rest of the crew. And she hadn't managed to feel like herself since. She knew for a fact that she hadn't smiled since the day Jack Sparrow died. She needed to bring Jack back - surely that would erase the crime of killing him in the first place.

And those were just her personal problems. The Brethren Court of the pirates had been called, and Jack was a member. He had to attend, and do something about Lord Cutler Beckett trying to gain control of the entire oceans. And knowing Jack, he would have the perfect solution.

"He's here," Barbossa grimly announced. "Davy Jones never once gave up that what he took."

"And does it matter?" Will asked, that same note of hopeless desperation in his voice. "We're trapped here by your doing, no different than Jack."

Elizabeth's ears pricked up at the last bit of his sentence. What could he possibly mean by that? Lately, Will always seemed to be saying Jack's name with a sort of loathing contempt in his voice, something that hadn't been there before. They hadn't gotten along as well as they could have, but Will used to speak of him in a wry, humorous tone, making fun of him, almost.

Will had changed a lot the past few days. He never seemed to talk to Elizabeth anymore, just as she needed his support the most. There was almost always an angry, bitter edge to his voice. Something had changed between them, but Elizabeth was not sure exactly what.

Suddenly, Elizabeth noticed a whole herd of white crabs scuttling over the beach, and a strange sense of relief came over her. They weren't the only living creatures on this island. They were not alone. There was still a chance. Jack could still be here.

"Witty Jack is closer than you think," Tia Dalma, suddenly spoke, breaking through the silent tension in the air, a curious smile curling up the corners of her mouth. Elizabeth stared at her for a brief second, wondering how she knew, but then, suddenly, she saw, over Tia Dalma's shoulder, the top of a mast...a mast with black sails attached.

The whole crew turned to look, as graciously, majestically, the _Black Pearl_ rose over the dunes, exactly as she did in the waves, and sailed through the bleached-white sand. And Elizabeth felt hope - unreasonable, irrational, unbelievable hope - surge through her, as, squinting, she spotted a familiar figure of a pirate standing, legs apart in a familiar wide stance, by the top of the mast.

Hope was quickly followed by disbelief. How could the _Pearl_ be sailing on land? And how was it in such good condition? And Jack - was Jack really there? Perhaps it was just a mad delusion?

"Impossible," Tai Huang breathed, somewhere behind Elizabeth, and she couldn't help but agree. But then, it was Captain Jack Sparrow - he was notorious for his ability to do the impossible and make it look easy.

"Boat," Ragetti pointed, dumbstruck, as the _Pearl_ sailed back into its rightful place in the waters of the ocean.

"Slap me thrice and hand me to me momma!" Gibbs whispered excitedly, all the grimness gone from his voice. "It's Jack!"

At those words, at that confirmation that Jack really was aboard that ship, Elizabeth's spirits soared, and a huge smile broke out on her face. Jack was here - finally, they had found Jack. Or he had found them. Either way, they were all here. Quickly, she began to follow Gibbs, but then stopped short when she remembered why they were all here. She had killed Jack. He wouldn't want to see her again. Her face fell, and her brief good mood was gone.

Glancing hurriedly and slightly resentfully at Will, she remembered how bitter Will seemed to be at Jack, and reasoned that it wouldn't help their relationship if she ran up to him and hugged him, as she wanted to. Will looked back at her, drawn by the feel of her gaze, and she quickly looked away.

…

Jack strode out of the boat, and onto the shore of the beach. This was a very interesting dream he was having. First, the crabs helping him sail the _Pearl_, now his former crewmates greeting him on this strange abandoned shore. Well, it was all very well, except for the fact that his crew had been extremely disobedient lately, and quite frankly, he was tired of such bumbling block-handed crew members.

"Jack!" Mr. Gibbs approached him with a great look of delight on his face.

"Mr. Gibbs!" Jack replied in kind. As he had thought. Mr. Gibbs was here too. Well, he was his first mate, shouldn't he have done something about such obvious incompetence?

"Aye, Cap'n!" Mr. Gibbs replied, quite joyfully, as the men began to form a line down the beach, out of habit.

"I thought so," Jack grimly announced. "I expect you're able to account for your actions, then?"

Looking quite confused, Mr. Gibbs' only answer was, "Sir?"

"There's been a perpetual and virulent lack of discipline aboard my vessel - why? Why is that, sir?" Jack roared out the last words, tired of all the strange things that were occurring lately. Mr. Gibbs should have seen to it that the tack line was hauled properly, that the work was done correctly, that his crew members did not go around impersonating chickens or wooing goats!

"Sir, you're - ," Mr. Gibbs hesitated, then continued, in a slightly lower voice, as though confessing some guilty secret. "You're in Davy Jones' Locker, Cap'n."

Oh. Davy Jones' Locker. Strange place to dream about, in Jack's opinion, but oh, well. Strange place, period, in Jack's opinion. "I know that," Jack quickly replied. "I know where I am." And Jack did. He was in Davy Jones' Locker. He knew that. "Don't think I don't!" he ordered Gibbs defensively.

"Jack Sparrow," a cold, unpleasantly familiar voice drawled out.

Turning towards the speaker, Jack saw his other first mate. His first first mate, so to speak. "Ah, Hector!" Jack recognized with a laugh. "Been too long! - hasn't it?" he asked, suddenly unsure. He couldn't really remember much about the last time they had met.

"Aye," Barbossa nodded. "Isla de Muerta, remember?" Jack clearly did not, but pretended he did. "You shot me," Barbossa reminded him.

Staring at Barbossa and wondering if he was joking, Jack easily replied, "No, I didn't!" He would remember something like that. And after all, if Barbossa was shot, he couldn't very well be alive and kicking now, could he?

Looking past Barbossa's shoulder, Jack saw another familiar face - one that he normally didn't see in the sunshine of a beach. "Tia Dalma - out and about, eh?" Well, this absolutely proved that this had to be a dream - Tia Dalma had never left her home before. "You add an agreeable sense of macabre to any delirium," Jack complimented her.

She smiled back hesitantly, looking faintly puzzled. And another familiar voice rang out. "He thinks we're a hallucination," Will Turner realized.

Ah. Will Turner. Something at the back of Jack's mind began nagging him. Something to do with Will and the chest and the girl. "William, tell me something," Jack asked. "Have you come because you need my help to save a certain distressing damsel - " Jack quickly corrected himself, knowing Will might not approve of this nickname. " - or rather, damsel in distress?" Will didn't reply. "Either one," Jack conceded.

Cocking his head to the side, the whelp answered clearly, "No."

Triumphantly, Jack reasoned. "Well, then, you wouldn't be here, would you?" The whelp only came to him when he needed help to get his own girl, after all. "So you can't be here! Q. E. D. - you're not really here!" Jack finished excitedly, gesturing wildly to prove his point.

Elizabeth had heard many crazy things in her life, but this seemed to be the craziest. Jack thought he was dreaming. How strange. But besides that, he still looked the same - spoke and acted the same too. And no matter if he was horrified to see her, she was glad to see him. And this last thought was the one that suddenly prompted her voice to say his name - hesitantly, yes, but still call him.

…

Jack heard another familiar voice call his name – a voice that seemed to be linked to rum. Something about rum. Looking up quickly, Jack saw Elizabeth Swann staring back at him concernedly. She stepped closer to Jack, her eyes never leaving his. "This is real. We're here," she explained.

A rush of memories assaulted Jack's brain. Rum _burning_, that was it. And a compass, and curiosity, and finally - he remembered. The kiss. That one, fleeting kiss. Possibly the best - and last - kiss of Jack's life. He lurched back a step, as he realized all that was happening, and he quickly ran back to Gibbs.

"The Locker, you say?" Jack quickly asked.

"Aye," Gibbs confirmed, and Jack suddenly felt overwhelmed as all that had happened. So this was the Locker. Davy Jones' eternal punishment. He hadn't escaped after all. He was in Davy Jones' Locker.

"We've come to rescue you," Elizabeth explained from behind Jack, wondering vaguely whether he would tell the whole crew how exactly he had ended up in the Locker. Probably not. Jack had a huge ego - he wouldn't want people knowing how he had been tricked.

"Have you now?" Jack asked sarcastically. She was the one who had sent him to the Locker, why undo the good deed? "Very kind of you. But it would seem that as I possess a ship and you don't, you're the ones in need of rescuing. And I'm not sure as I'm in the mood," he finished, only half joking.

No. The Locker hadn't changed Jack one bit, and Elizabeth wasn't sure whether she was exasperated by that, or happy. Perhaps a combination of both. Less than five minutes, and he was already talking in his old way.

"I see my ship," Barbossa broke in, a sly ring in his voice. "Right there," he elaborated, and pointed to the _Pearl_.

Jack immediately knew what he meant, but he looked over and squinted at the ship as well. "Can't spot it," he finally said, knowing exactly how the remark would get under Barbossa's skin. "Must be a tiny little thing, hiding somewhere behind the _Pearl_."

"Jack!" The whelp came up, looking strangely grim. Jack was slightly surprised. He had Elizabeth, what else could he want from Jack now? "Cutler Beckett has the heart of Davy Jones. He controls the _Flying_ _Dutchman_," Will informed him.

"He's taking over the seas!" Elizabeth quickly added, squeezing in between Will and Jack. She had been so caught up in finding Jack again, she had quite forgotten about the reason why they were all here.

"The song has already been sung," Tia Dalma continued, in her sing-song voice. "The Brethren Court is called!"

Just how many days had Jack been on this godforsaken spit of land? "Leave you people alone for just a minute, and look what happens - everything's gone to pot!" Jack exclaimed disgustedly. If the world was so much worse without Jack Sparrow, why had they - or rather, she - taken him out of it? She should have thought of all this before killing him off.

"Aye, Jack, the world needs you back something fierce," Mr. Gibbs told Jack, softening him up a little. Always faithful, ol' Gibbs. Unlike some other people he could mention.

"And you need a crew," Will Turner added.

Instantly, Jack froze at the words. He was not going back to the world just to solve their problems for them. He wasn't their guinea pig, to do them favors whenever they asked for. If there was one thing Jack hated, it was being taken for granted. Turning around, he questioned them. "Why should I sail with any of you? Four of you have tried to kill me in the past; one of you succeeded," Jack pointed out, waving a careless hand in Elizabeth's direction.

Will instantly turned to Elizabeth with a look of confusion, and the guilt written on her face told him everything. She opened her mouth to protest, but she couldn't think of anything to say that would explain it right. She seethed inwardly, unreasonably furious at Jack - was it so hard to keep a secret?

Jack watched this exchange with strange amusement. "Oh," he realized, a smug smile crossing his face. "She's not told you?" No wonder she was glaring daggers at him now. If looks could kill, he would be dead twice over. But for some strange reason, he felt strangely pleased that things weren't as wonderful between the whelp and the girl as they used to be. He would have thought that with himself absent, Elizabeth and her precious Will would have married and begun making families a long time ago. "You'll have loads to talk about while you're here."

Noticing Tia Dalma standing in the line, Jack strode over to her. "As for you - "

She squirmed for a second, then gathered her bearings and smiled provocatively at Jack. "Now...don't tell me you didn't enjoy it...at the time," she pointed out.

Jack allowed himself a brief grin of retrospect - one that somehow bothered Elizabeth quite a bit, although she tried to hide her annoyance. "Fair enough, all right, you're in," he relented.

He walked past the other crewmembers, briefly evaluating them. "Don't need you, you scare me," he airily dismissed Ragetti. "Gibbs, you can come. Monty...," Jack saw the one-eyed man's best friend - what's-his-name Pintel - and grimaced in response. "Cotton - ," he nodded. "Cotton's parrot - I'm a little iffy - but...at least I'll have someone to talk to," he decided.

Turning, Jack came face-to-face with a man he was sure he had never met before. "Who are you?" he asked, surprised. Had he forgotten one of his crewmates?

"Tai Huang," the man replied cockily. "These are my men," he indicated the group behind him with a jerk of his chin.

Jack considered the matter. He wasn't sure he liked Tai Huang much, but he had a crew - and if they were ever to get off the island, they needed a crew. "Where do your allegiances lie?"

"With the highest bidder," Tai Huang informed him, without a trace of shame.

"I have a ship," Jack pointed out hopefully.

"That makes you the highest bidder," Tai Huang replied.

Jack smiled, satisfied. He didn't much like men like this Tai Huang, but he definitely understood them. "Good man," he remarked. Turning around, he commanded his crew to weigh anchor, all hands, and prepare to set sail.

He quickly snapped open his compass, and was met with the frenzied needle spinning itself almost off the compass. Jack's grin slid right off his face. Why did his compass keep betraying him? First, apparently, he did not know what he wanted. And now, it didn't work in Davy Jones' Locker! Ah, the injustice of the world - and afterworld. Quickly, he snapped the compass shut.

"Jack," Barbossa drawled out his name unpleasantly. "Which way you going, Jack?" he asked, an unpleasant smile creeping across his face, as he tapped the charts he held in his hand.

So Jack had to sail with them, apparently. No choice. _All right_, Jack decided. He'd sail with them. He just had to remember to keep clear of the girl.

(A/N: The ending's not as polished as I'd like it to be, but I couldn't think of any other way to end it, especially since the end bit of this scene wasn't as Sparrabethy as I had first thought it would be. But this scene is important, no matter what! Anyway, I hoped you liked it! I'm not sure what the next scene should be, though - I'll have to think on that. Review, please!)


	11. Reconciliation

(A/N: Okay, so it's been a long long time since I updated, but I've been so crazy busy with school I've barely had time for anything. But I rewatched the movies recently, and this scene sort of stuck in my head. However, this isn't really that much of a Sparrabethy scene. You could even argue that it's Willabeth. But I felt like it was important, simply because of two or three shots of Jack they showed. I feel like it was a good opportunity for Jack to sort of mentally forgive Elizabeth. A longer, more fictional rendition of this chapter is up as a oneshot. Anyway, enjoy!)

**Reconciliation**  
_(In the Locker, in Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End, when they see Elizabeth's father)_

It was a freezing cold night. Elizabeth could see her breath fog in the air in front of her as she talked. She shivered involuntarily, partly from the cold, and partly from the creepy feeling she got from this place. It was nothing like the warm blue Caribbean waters she was used to.

Suddenly, in the distance, she saw a hundred little pricks of light floating over the ocean. Squinting through the dark, she saw little dinghies traveling through the water, each with one lone occupier carrying a lamp.

Something about the closest one seemed familiar. Surely that wasn't - ? But as the boat drew closer, the weak light from the lamp illuminated the face of Elizabeth's father, Governor Weatherby Swann.

A huge wave of intermingled relief and happiness broke over Elizabeth. She couldn't remember the last time she saw her father, after months and months of being away from Port Royal, and she had missed him more than she had realized.

"It's my father, we've made it back!" she whispered happily. "Father! Father, here, look here!" she cried out over the dark waves, her voice a child's joyful shriek, an eager little girl once again.

Jack, close by as usual, was immediately struck with the change in Elizabeth's expression. Gone was the wan pallor, the quiet sorrow that he'd noticed behind her eyes lately. He could tell that there had been a scene with Will earlier – he had seen the defiance in her eyes, and the matching anger in Will's. But now all despondency was wiped clear, as an excited, innocent smile lit up her face, radiating hope all around.

_Ah, Lizzie, love_, Jack thought sadly. How he wished it was that simple. For a second, he debated: should he be quiet, let her enjoy her sweet happiness a few minutes longer? That expression on her face wasn't as common as it should be; should he keep it like that for a little longer? But he rejected the idea. Elizabeth deserved the truth – she had shown herself to be equal to it time and time again, even if she didn't always hear it from Jack.

"Elizabeth," Jack quietly murmured. Surprised, Elizabeth turned her head at the sound. She couldn't remember the last time Jack said her name like that. Quietly, seriously, without a trace of a joke or a tease in the word. Was it because he had changed in Davy Jones' Locker? Did death alter a man that much? Somehow Elizabeth wasn't sure she liked the change – she infinitely preferred Jack with a twinkle in his eye and a cheery grin on his face – but she realized that the once-merry Jack was gone because she had killed him, and guilt stabbed at her heart once more.

"We're not back," Jack continued, in that same quiet, serious tone, his eyes boring into hers. If he had said it any other way, looked any other way, Elizabeth could have dismissed it as a particularly bad joke. But his eyes were sincere, his gaze concerned, and Elizabeth couldn't doubt them, though she tried her hardest, though there was proof enough that Jack wasn't trustworthy. This time, it was different. There was no sign of any mischief in his eyes, and that in itself was enough to erase Elizabeth's happiness altogether.

Jack watched dully as Elizabeth's smile shrank, and realization stole into her eyes. For some reason, the world kept trying to beat down the spirit of that young girl, pushing one sorrow after another on her delicate shoulders. And Jack – so far, Jack had just contributed to the problem, hurting more than helping the girl. And this thought was the one that bothered him the most.

Trying her best to reject the implications of Jack's words, Elizabeth turned back to the boats. Out of the corners of her eyes she could see Will's arm, hesitantly stretching over to grab her, but Elizabeth could only care about the man on the boat below them.

"Father!" she called out, desperately this time. Governor Swann slowly turned his head, and found his daughter.

For a second, Elizabeth thought he wouldn't be able to recognize her. But slowly, Governor Swann said, "Elizabeth". Fighting back tears, Elizabeth felt her hopes rise once more. Perhaps –

"Are you dead?" Elizabeth's father asked her. Frantically, she shook her head as she sidled along the rail of the _Pearl, _trying to follow the boat.

"I think I am," Governor Swann told her, with a slight chuckle in his throat, although there was no humor in the sound. Panic attacked Elizabeth at his words.

"No! You can't be!" Elizabeth retorted stubbornly. Or if he was, she could save him! Her mind awhirl with ideas, she forgot to pay attention to her father's next words.

Of course, Jack heard them loud and clear. The calculating, rational part of his mind took careful note of this new information about Davy Jones' heart. But the frenzied expression on Elizabeth's face distracted him from making too many plans for his new information. If he knew that young lady at all, the next thing she'd be doing is trying to save her father by –

"Cast a line!" Elizabeth called back desperately. The boat started moving further away from the _Pearl, _and frustrated, Elizabeth grabbed the rope from Monty's hands and threw it to her father. "Take the line!" she ordered, panicking.

Governor Swann looked up at his only daughter with shining eyes. "I'm so proud of you, Elizabeth," he said simply, not even trying to grab the rope.

"The line, take the line!" Elizabeth urged, frantic at her father's lack of response. As the boat drifted further away, she raced after it in desperation. Somewhere behind her, she heard the rest of the crew following her, but she didn't care. She wanted her father here, on board the _Pearl_, going back to the world of the living.

A pair of arms grabbed her. Familiar arms that she immediately recognized as Will's. Arms that she loved, but were now restricting her, holding her back as her father drifted away. Feeling hope slip away from her grasp, Elizabeth gave up struggling, gave up trying to stop her tears, simply gave up, and sobbed her heart out.

...

Jack was the only one who hadn't moved in the effort to save Elizabeth. He told himself it was because there were enough fools already to stop her, that it was because Will was already there for Elizabeth. But the truth was, he probably couldn't have stopped Elizabeth even if he had tried. If she had been sobbing like that in his arms, he would have done the first thing he could to stop the tears – which, in this case, would be to either let the girl go after her father and ruin both her life and the fate of the crew, or to chase after Governor Swann himself, although he knew very well that such a move could only end in disaster - or worse, death.

_That was the problem with liking a girl too much_, he told himself, grabbing a bottle of half-empty rum. _You stop thinking smart_. He glanced at Will, and saw how the whelp had his arms wrapped around the girl, all problems of before forgotten. A flame of jealousy ignited, and Jack half-heartedly squelched it out. _She's with her fiance the whelp_, he told himself resolutely. _She's happy with him. _But he couldn't stop that traitorous little voice in his head from saying, _she'd be happier with me._

After all, what would a ruthless pirate like Elizabeth do with a life as a blacksmith's wife? Cook and clean and wear corsets? Somehow, Jack couldn't picture Elizabeth in that role. But he could easily see her standing by the rails of the _Pearl, _gazing dreamily at the blue waves stretching across the horizon. The image made a slow smile spread lazily across Jack's face, before he realized the image was never going to be possible.

He tried to reason with himself. She'd tried to kill him - technically, she had killed him! But try as he might, he couldn't summon up enough anger towards her. He still felt rather indignant that she had the gall to tie up Captain Jack Sparrow to the mast of his own vessel, but all anger was gone. Maybe it was because he would have done the same thing had he been in her place.

Jack sighed. No use chasing after other people's fiancées, he reminded himself. Especially not a fiancé who could wield a sword as well as Will Turner. Elizabeth Swann was a dangerous woman, and she was happy with the whelp. Let the boy deal with her. That was how it was meant to be. Wasn't it?

(A/N: I made this a oneshot, sort of. Once Upon a Dark, Foggy Night. It's longer, and not as movie-accurate. Basically, Elizabeth tries to chase after her father, but Jack figures it out and stops her. Give it a look-see if you liked this! And as always, review!)


	12. The Brethren Court

(A/N: Sorry for the long long delays in updates, but don't worry, I haven't abandoned this fic! Quite the opposite actually, I've made some pretty big changes to some of the previous chapters! I read over the whole story again before I started on this new chapter, and I realized that my writing style has changed a bit since when I started. It's kind of cool, really, to go back and read your own writing – also kind of demoralizing, but that's okay. Well, I discovered that I, being younger and more innocent when I wrote certain chapters back in the day, completely missed out on some of the innuendo and sexual tension that was building up. So I sort of edited the previous chapters and added a bit more of that in. Nothing to make the rating change – still Disney – but a little more… satisfying, shall we say. Mainly in the "Persuasion" and "Curiosity" chapters. So before you read this new chapter, I highly recommend going back and reading through the previous ones first. And then come back to enjoy this one!)

**The Brethren Court  
**_When the Pirates Lords gather at Shipwreck Cove, in Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End_

Jack watched the other Pirate Lords drop their pieces of junk into the plate that Ragetti was bringing around, and again eyed the entrance to the Cove. There wasn't a sail in sight. He sighed in impatience. What was the world coming to if even Pirate Lords were found incapable of the simple task of sailing to places in a prompt and punctual manner? Because that was obviously the only reason why Sao Feng wasn't here – because his ship was slow. Not because anything had happened to them on the way.

But still, Jack couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of – what? Not worry, surely. More like…curiosity. Curiosity as to what could possibly be taking Sao Feng so bloody long to reach Shipwreck Cove. Because for several reasons as yet unfathomable to him, Elizabeth Swann was on board that floating snail Sao Feng called a ship. And he did not feel at all…satisfied (yes, that was the word, satisfied) knowing that Elizabeth Swann was in the company of pirates such as Sao Feng for a protracted length of time.

He knew she could take care of herself – she was a near-perfect pirate herself, smart, ruthless and cunning. But that wasn't the point, in his opinion. The point was that she shouldn't have to. That was what fiancés such as Turner were for. But apparently nobody had the brains to suggest that at least Turner should go along to protect Elizabeth, if nothing else.

At the moment, Will Turner was Jack's least favorite person. Although the boy had earned his grudging respect over the time they had known each other, Jack's opinion of him had severely deteriorated after finding out the whelp had done nothing – absolutely bloody nothing – to stop his fiancée from walking straight into the jaws of danger. Add that to the fact that the boy had tried to steal Jack's ship, and Jack found himself wondering what in the world had possessed him to have let Will escape the ship alive.

It had just been his sympathy coming out again, that's what made him aid Turner's leave. Curse his wretchedly warm heart that forced him to feel sorry even for people like Turner, who was continually thrusting a wrench in Jack's schemes. But the boy was so inept at this trickery, and yet was trying so hard, that Jack had to feel sorry for the whelp. On one side, he was desperately trying to save his father, without even thinking of a proper plan, but on the other, he hadn't even thought to consult his best aid - his very own fiancée, who could have given him a lesson or two on how to get what he wanted. And that was why Jack thought so little of Turner - what kind of man sees fit to leave his future wife out of his plans to free his father by murdering a tentacle-faced monster?

In fact, Jack had no idea what anybody saw in Will Turner. Smart though the boy was - he'd escaped from the _Pearl_'s brig in about five hours flat, after all - he kept messing up Jack's plans, even though they were ostensibly on the same side. First with this steal-the-ship-and-save-my-father act, and then with that drop-a-body-to-leave-a-trail-for-the-enemy idea. Although even Jack grudgingly admitted to himself that it had been a rather ingenious idea.

Still, he couldn't have a self-confessed traitor seeing the way to Shipwreck Island and leading Beckett right to the unsuspecting pirates. It had felt very satisfying to see Turner bobbing up and down in the water, cold and shivering, after all the trouble and worry he had cost Jack. After all, what kind of fiancé didn't even bother to protect his girl from scurvy-ridden, scallywag pirates like Sao Feng?

According to Gibbs, Elizabeth had _agreed _to go – which was all very well, but _agreeing _was not the same as _wanting_, and neither of them was the same as _staying safe_. Which is what Jack preferred Elizabeth to remain so long as they sailed in pirate-infested waters.

He didn't quite know why it was any of his business whether Elizabeth remained safe or otherwise. It was only because, having rescued her so many times before, it was only natural he preferred his hard work not to go wasted. Or so he had told himself, so he could go on worrying – no, he corrected himself mentally, _wondering - _about what was taking so bloody long.

He had noticed her absence as soon as he returned to the _Pearl_ after negotiating with Beckett. Even old woolly-brained rancid-breath Sao Feng had wanted to keep Elizabeth, for some reason – or at least, he had inquired after her. Why was it that every single male creature that met Elizabeth Swann had to become infatuated with her?

Every male creature excepting himself, of course. Jack was nowhere near infatuated with Elizabeth Swann. But still, something about Beckett's leer when he said Elizabeth's name had incensed Jack, and he had been rather curt with Beckett. Not that he regretted anything he said to that particular stuffed codfish.

It had taken only a few minutes on the _Pearl _before Jack noticed that there was no sign of Elizabeth's forceful personality anywhere on deck. And after a few minutes, when nobody said anything regarding that conspicuous absence, he had remarked upon it himself, quite casually, of course. And then he learned that they had traded her – _Elizabeth Swann_, of all people – to Sao Feng. Apparently, nobody on the ship had the word 'negotiation' in their vocabulary. It had rather upset him to know his crewmates were such idiots, and he had spoken to them rather sharply about improving their parley skills. It would not do for other pirates to think of them as weak and easily coerced.

From his quick conversation with Turner before leaving him for the seagulls, Jack had easily surmised that there had been some sort of fight brewing between the two lovebirds. Which wasn't any of his business, really, but still – it was human nature to be curious. Jack had almost felt sorry for Will at that moment. He could sympathize with Will's plight, somehow - caught between what he had always wanted and some new course that fate was steering him towards.

But still, sympathy or not, Turner should have minded his fiancée a little better, in Jack's opinion, especially considering the bevy of men always buzzing around Elizabeth. None of those men – from Norrington to Beckett to Sao Feng to Beckett – could handle a woman like Elizabeth Swann. Jack had thought that at least the whelp would be able to keep her out of harm's way, but apparently, such a task was beyond his obviously limited capabilities.

Even among pirates, Sao Feng was reputed for his interest in women. And Elizabeth Swann was, unfortunately, a woman, and a regrettably good-looking one at that. But then, she was also not the type to be easily persuaded into doing someone else's bidding, thankfully. If Sao Feng tried to take advantage of her, there would be some kicking and screaming involved.

"Sparrow!" someone called, and Jack looked up, distracted from his brooding. As all eyes in the room turned to him, he realized they were waiting for him to put in his piece of eight. He was the only member with a true piece of eight in his possession. Jack fingered the shiny gold coin, and realized that he was rather reluctant to put it down in the center of a circle of thieves.

"Might I point out that we are still missing one Pirate Lord, and I'm as content as a cucumber to wait until Sao Feng joins us," Jack stalled, smiling lazily. After all, it would be the height of rudeness to begin without Sao Feng and his crew.

"Sao Feng is dead!"

The clear, decisive call rang through the room, cutting through all other conversation. All eyes looked towards the doorway as Elizabeth Swann strode into the room.

Startled by the familiar voice, Jack turned around. A huge wave of relief washed over him to see Elizabeth looking better than ever, but he kept his face carefully neutral. Absently, he noted her change of clothing, and how she seemed to lead the band of pirates standing behind her, and how deferentially they were treating her, but it all seemed so natural that it was easy to forget she was relatively new to the world of pirates.

His eyes met hers, and Jack instantly noted how tired she looked. And it bothered him. Something big had happened on board Sao Feng's ship. And he wasn't sure he was going to like it.

…

The room was filled with pirates, more people than she would have thought possible to fit into a place of this size. And at Elizabeth's declaration, every single face turned towards her, all pairs of eyes shocked, questioning, suspicious. Elizabeth felt her stomach lurch nervously, but she kept her gaze steely. For her father's sake, she had to look strong.

One face drew her gaze instantly, like a needle to a magnet. The inscrutable dark eyes of Captain Jack Sparrow were the first that she met. She couldn't read them, couldn't instantly tell what he was thinking of the way she could with Will, but somehow, his eyes, with that familiar gleam of interest brightening the deep brown irises, meeting hers as though they were equals, enabled her to square her shoulders and lift her chin with renewed purpose.

Elizabeth surveyed the room, committing to memory the faces seated around the table. These were the other Pirate Lords. And she was now their member, thanks to Sao Feng. "He fell to the Flying Dutchman," she informed them, and the room was in instant uproar.

Quickly, she entered the room, sticking her sword into the stand along with the other Pirate Lords' swords. Jack, watching her, was instantly distracted. "He made _you c_aptain?" he asked indignantly. "They're just giving the bloody title away now!" Honestly, had everybody in the world gone insane after his death? She had only sailed as pirates for a few months at the most – what in the world had given _her_, a bloody sheltered governor's daughter, the right to the title?

Although he supposed, if Turner could be called captain, so could she. Elizabeth Swann was more of a pirate than William Turner any day, despite Bootstrap Bill's blood in the boy.

Said captain was now desperately trying to get the attention of the rest of the pirates assembled. "Listen. Listen to me. Our location has been betrayed. Jones is under the command of Lord Beckett. They're on their way here!"

Looking at the quarrelling, ragtag bunch of smelly drunken men, Elizabeth felt her hopes sink slightly. For a collection of the most fearsome pirates in the world, this was a very disorganized bunch, in Elizabeth's opinion. She would have imagined the whole thing to be much better orchestrated. Maybe in a different, larger room too. This room was absolutely too stuffy to bear.

"Who is this betrayer?" one particularly fierce-looking pirate asked angrily.

"Not likely one among us!" Barbossa retorted defensively.

Suddenly, Elizabeth noticed a rather conspicuous absence – one she should have noticed earlier, she realized with a guilty pang. "Where's Will?" she asked, out of the corner of her mouth. Was he still angry at her?

"Not among us," Jack drily replied, not a whit of remorse in his heart. He really hoped she wasn't going to start on the whole 'find Will' thing again. Glad as he was to see her safe, he would not hesitate to gag her if she started on such a topic at such a time, especially considering his displeasure with Turner at the moment.

Elizabeth, picking up on Jack's insinuation, was about to rush to her fiancé's defense when she realized that for all she knew of Will, what Jack alluded to could very well be true. Will had changed in ways she could not understand.

"It matters not how they found us!" Barbossa roared before the din could start again. "The question is, what will we do now that they have?"

"We fight," Elizabeth replied simply. It was quite obviously the only solution. If the cramped stuffy room was any indication, they had men aplenty. And this wasn't even all of them! With numbers like these, with ships of such reputed swiftness, they could very well match up to Beckett. And Elizabeth wanted very much to see Beckett ruined forever, or at least die, much the same way he had seen Elizabeth's own father die.

Unfortunately, not all the rest of her fellow Pirate Lords saw it her from her perspective. As one, the whole room began to laugh gently, mocking the newest Pirate Lord for her ignorance.

Jack felt a stab of sympathy for Elizabeth, even as he chuckled half-heartedly along with everyone else. She should have learned, after so many days on board the _Pearl,_ that pirates these days were a lazy lot. They didn't want to do difficult things like fight for their freedom. They preferred the easy way out, with as little exertion as possible.

Elizabeth looked around the guffawing room, completely bemused. A scary-looking lady with a completely white face was the first to speak. "Shipwreck Cove is a fortress – a well-supplied fortress! There is no need to fight!" Loud murmurs of agreement came from the rest of the room.

Jack looked at Elizabeth, considering. Somehow, the option of sitting and waiting didn't seem as appealing as it should have been. Jack had always been a man of action, despite his love of shortcuts and evasion of direct swordfighting. In his opinion, he much preferred action to idleness. He got bored easily, and Shipwreck Cove was a very boring place. He didn't think he could wait out a siege, days after days after days, just waiting. Especially in light of current company. The more time he spent with the other Pirate Lords, the more the chance someone might remember the money he owed them.

In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that waiting out the siege was just a recipe for disaster. None of the Pirate Lords were very patient. Any excuse for a fracas would do, and by the end of a day, their number would probably be halved.

Only Elizabeth's plan so far made any sense. He didn't really want to fight – he was much more fond of parley and spirited debates. All Jack really wanted was freedom, sailing away with his _Pearl,_ and perhaps a nice store of gold. But then, freedom couldn't just be taken, could it? All these years, he had tried so hard to just run away from all his problems, all his debts, and yet, they always seemed to catch up to him, sooner or later. Maybe true freedom could only be earned – through struggle and battle. It wasn't a very comforting thought, in Jack's opinion, but if that's what it took to get some peace of mind, he was ready to do it.

And maybe, while the fight was going on, he could go on board the _Dutchman_, find the heart -

"There be a third way," Barbossa's sly drawl interrupted Jack's thought process, and Jack felt vaguely irritated by the man. Jack had shot him, killed him, slapped him, argued with him, crossed swords with him, and yet, the man continued to be a pain in a tender region.

Unbeknownst to Jack's bitter thoughts, said pain continued speaking. "In another age, at this very spot, the First Brethren Court captured the sea goddess and bound her in her bones." Murmurs of approval echoed through the room. Barbossa smiled and shook his head. "That was a mistake."

_What nonsense is that painful excuse for a pirate spouting now? _Jack wondered irritably. He had been doing so well until those words. All signs of approval immediately ceased.

"Oh, we tamed the seas for ourselves, aye. But opened the door to Beckett and his ilk!" Barbossa's voice roared out.

The venom in his voice instantly caught Jack's attention. All right, Jack grudgingly admitted, Barbossa had his good points. He was nowhere near as bad as Beckett. Barbossa was a good pirate. He was a traditional pirate, nothing like Jack, but he had a fierce love for piracy. It was in his soul, same as Jack and Gibbs and Elizabeth.

Barbossa glared around the room fiercely. "Better were the days when mastery of seas came not from bargains struck with eldritch creatures, but from the sweat of a man's brow and the strength of his back alone - you all know this to be true!"

And Elizabeth, at least, did know this to be true. That was the vision of pirates she had had when she was younger. Masters of the sea, choosing their own destiny through their own hard work. She could see that happening in her imagination again, and grudgingly, she admitted that Barbossa, despite his numerous faults, was a true pirate. Everyone could see his fervor, his passion for his way of life lying beneath the surface of his words. Surprised, Elizabeth felt a rush of camaraderie for her one-time archenemy, and realized with a shock that Barbossa could be as persuasive as Jack, in his own way. They both had that same quality of saying words that could paint pictures in the minds of everyone, pictures that inspired, pictures that made things happen.

Turning his head solemnly, Barbossa intoned, "Gentlemen. Ladies. We must free Calypso."

There was silence for a moment – one long moment. And then pandemonium, as six Pirate Lords vehemently voiced their protest against Barbossa's plan.

_Oh, look, _Jack noticed, pleased. _Barbossa finally got to the point of his long touching speech_. Because it was touching, it was sentimental, but the one thing it wasn't was practical. Jack understood that yes, mastery of the seas should come from hard work, and he could do that. He could earn his freedom. After all, nobody had said anything about _honest_ work. But Calypso? Jack wondered if Barbossa had any idea what he was getting himself into. Calypso was unpredictable, temperamental, sentimental, unreasonable – in short, a woman.

Women. Such delightful creatures when they liked you. But when they didn't – Jack mentally shuddered. One moment, they'd happily get drunk with you, and then you blink, and they're throwing the rum into a bonfire. One moment they'd kiss you, and the next they'd leave you as a snack for some horrible sea beastie. Better to stay clear of women altogether, in Jack's opinion.

"Shoot him!" one Pirate Lord called out, pointing at Barbossa.

"Cut out his tongue!" called another.

Now these were good ideas. "Shoot him, cut out his tongue, then shoot his tongue! And trim that scraggly beard!" Jack helpfully suggested.

"Sao Feng would have agreed with Barbossa!" shouted Tai Huang, who had obviously not yet accepted Elizabeth as his captain. Elizabeth looked at him indignantly, rather hurt by his obvious lack of faith in her leadership skills.

"Calypso was our enemy then, she will be our enemy now!" the tall, dark Pirate Lord announced.

The French Pirate Lord agreed, chiming in, "And it's not likely her mood's improved."

One short, blustery pirate slammed his gun down on the table. "I would still agree with Sao Feng, we release Calypso!"

"You threaten me?" the French Pirate Lord asked, stepping closer to tower over his unfortunately short rival.

"I silence you!" he replied arrogantly, and with those three words, all pandemonium broke loose. Elizabeth watched in amazement as men who had been standing peacefully side by side only minutes before, turned with voracious fury upon their neighbors.

"This is madness," she murmured, too astonished to be horrified by the spectacle.

"This is politics," Jack reminded her. This was what happened when too many pirates without morals or scruples were cooped up in a room together. And this would be happening with alarming frequency if Mistress Ching were to get her way about remaining in Shipwreck Cove while it was under siege. No, Jack decided firmly. If Beckett and his lot were ever to be defeated, it had to be them the pirates fought, not each other.

_Well, what do you know?_ he realized ruefully. The girl was right. Maybe she was more deserving of the captaincy than he had given her credit for.

"Meanwhile our enemies are bearing down upon us," Elizabeth commented worriedly.

"If they not be here already," Barbossa drily added. A golden goblet came whizzing over their heads, and they all instinctively ducked. "That's it!" Barbossa decisively declared, and pulling out his pistol, he climbed on top of the table and shot towards the ceiling.

It was effective, Jack grudgingly admitted. The whole room fell silent just at one shot, apparently the trigger that restored sense into their blessedly thick-skulled brains.

"It was the first court what imprisoned Calypso, and we will be the ones to set her free, and in her gratitude she will see fit to grant us… boons," Barbossa stated.

Any respect Jack had been feeling for him disappeared at those words. Enough of this nonsense, he decided. It was high time someone listened to sense around here. "Whose boons? Your boons? Utterly deceptive twaddlespeak, says I," Jack pronounced scornfully.

Barbossa glared back at him. "If you have a better alternative, please, share," he retorted, sarcasm dripping from the last syllable.

For a second, Jack considered the situation. How should he best put it to his dear unenlightened compatriots so they listened to sense instead of Barbossa's grand, imaginative words?

"Cuttlefish," Jack said suddenly, grimacing at Barbossa. Raising his voice, he addressed the whole crowd. "Eh? Let us not, dear friends, forget our dear friends the cuttlefish."

Puzzled, Elizabeth suspiciously watched Jack circle around the room. As usual, she had no idea where he was going with this cuttlefish idea, but knowing Jack, there was some scheme lying in wait. Somehow, she was glad Jack finally stepped in. His words, even though they sounded like rubbish at the moment, were probably the most sensible words spoken in this room in the past hour or so.

"Flippant glorious little sausages. Pen 'em up together and they'll devour each other without a second thought," Jack told two huge men, really getting caught up in his metaphor. This was quite a good analogy, even if he did say so himself. "Human nature, isn't it?...Or... or...fish nature."

He laid two hands on Mistress Ching's shoulders, ignoring the way her guards' hands immediately leaped to her blade. He knew she was a sensible woman, more so than most Pirate Lords. "So yes, we could hole up here well provisioned and well armed and half of us would be dead within the month. Which seems grim to me any way you slice it."

Watching the doubt cross the other female Pirate Lord's face, Elizabeth felt that twinge of admiration she had come to associate with Captain Jack Sparrow. He had made his point. Nobody would be in favor of waiting out a siege in Shipwreck Cove anymore, especially not after that sudden brawl.

"Or," Jack raised a finger. He turned and came face-to-face with a particularly ripe-smelling bearded pirate, and he gagged for a second before he continued, edging around the man, "As my learned colleague so naively suggests, we could release Calypso, and we can pray that she will be merciful." Jack's lip curled as he told Captain Villanueva's first mate, "I rather doubt it."

Turning towards the room once again, Jack roared, "Can we in fact pretend that she is anything other than a woman scorned, like which fury hell hath no? We cannot."

_He has a point,_ Elizabeth noted. No woman liked being scorned, after all. No reason to assume sea goddesses were any exception. But if Jack wasn't going to agree with Barbossa, then - ?

"Res ipso loquitur tabula in naufragio, we are left with but one option," Jack said decisively. _The Latin was a good touch_, he thought, pleased. Made him sound smart. Now, much as it pained him to say it, he had to come to the crux of the matter.

It was rather belittling, to think that a girl who had scarcely been a Pirate Lord for a few days had come up with the best solution in this case. But then, it was Elizabeth Swann. After all that he had seen her do, he was rather inclined to believe she could do near anything.

"I agree with - and I cannot believe the words are coming out of me mouth -" he grimaced. "_Captain _Swann." To think that rum-burning girl became the captain of a pirate ship! "We must fight."

An uproar rose at his words, but Elizabeth scarcely noticed it. They were becoming rather common, after all. Jack agreeing with her - now _that _was unusual. But she was right. She had known that from the beginning, and his agreeing to her plan only made her more certain. No matter how much Jack liked twisty complicated plans, this time, the only option was a head-on fight. The beginnings of a smile hovered at the edges of her lips, and Jack automatically took note of how it softened her features.

"You've only run away from a fight!" Barbossa incredulously yelled up at him. _That did sound true, _Elizabeth conceded, remembering how he had run when the Kraken came.

"Have not!" Jack retorted, the picture of wounded dignity, although he knew perfectly well this was true. Well, death changed a person. He had tried to run from the Kraken, had tried to escape his fate, but somehow, everything had caught up to him eventually. Maybe it was time to stop running and start fighting.

"You have so!"

"Have not!"

"You have so!"

"Have not!"

"You have so, and you know it!"

"Have not, slander and calumny!" Jack swore righteously. Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Everyone knew he was lying, he might as well just admit it. But although she tried to bring up that old anger she used to feel when he lied to her, she only felt a rueful sort of resignation. Lying and running away were part of Jack's idiosyncrasies, she had already accepted them as a part of his personality.

"I have only ever embraced that oldest and noblest of pirate traditions," Jack explained enigmatically. "I submit here and now, that is what we all must do." Jack paused, his eyes flitting around the room. It was a rather genius stroke on his part, turning that old rum-brained geezer's words against himself. "We must fight...to run away."

"Aye!" Gibbs faithfully cried, and Jack felt a rush of affection for his first mate as the rest of the room chimed in. Gibbs was the best thing Jack had to a friend, loyal, trusting. He was a good man and a good pirate.

Barbossa's voice rang out as the 'ayes' faded away. "As per the Code, an act of war - and this be exactly that - can only be declared by the Pirate King."

Jack's spirits instantly took a nosedive. If that was true - "You made that up!" he accused Barbossa. If the Code really did say that, Jack and the rest of the pirates were doomed.

There was so much she didn't know about this Pirate Lord business, Elizabeth realized. Like this Code that Jack and Barbossa kept referring to. She knew what it was, the Pirate's Code that was law for all pirates. But what was this Pirate King talk all about? After this Cutler Beckett business was put to rest, she promised herself, she would have a nice long chat with Jack or Gibbs or Barbossa about what exactly this Pirate Lord business entailed.

"Am I now?" Barbossa smirked. "I call on Captain Teague, Keeper of the Code."

The room instantly felt several degrees colder. _Bugger_, Jack thought. _Bugger, bugger, buggerbuggerbugger. _This was exactly why he hadn't wished to go to Shipwreck Cove. This meeting was precisely what he had tried to avoid for the last ten years or so. It had probably been more than ten years since he last saw..._him_. Captain Teague. And he had rather been hoping to make it twenty years, if not more, without meeting Captain Teague again.

A tense silence fell over the whole gathering. Elizabeth, about to ask something, was distracted by the look on Jack's face. He looked..._nervous_? Captain Jack Sparrow, _the _Captain Jack Sparrow, was nervous? It wasn't a common occurrence. In fact, as far as Elizabeth could remember, it had never happened before, not even when he was facing death. But here he was, looking like a scared young boy about to get in trouble. It was… endearing, in a way, and for a strange second, she wanted to go over to him and take his hand. She shook off the desire instantly, and put it down to too many liquor fumes floating around the room.

"Sri Sumbhajee proclaims this all to be folly!" one foolhardy soul chose to break the silence. "Hang the code! Who cares - " A gunshot rang through the air, effectively pausing the man's statement forever. Elizabeth winced as the man toppled to the ground.

His killer stood in the doorway, a framed silhouette. But something about that silhouette seemed familiar, although Elizabeth was certain she had never seen this pirate before. The mystery pirate blew on his smoking pistol and, in a quiet, gravelly voice that still echoed around the deathly silence of the room, said "The Code is the law."

The man stepped into the room, and again, Elizabeth felt that feeling, that something about this man was familiar, even though she knew he was a stranger. It was a combination of his appearance and his gait, Elizabeth surmised. He looked... a lot like Jack. Surely they weren't - related?

Looking at Jack's expression, she noticed with surprise that the nervousness had only intensified. He was absolutely silent, frozen to the spot. It was the first time Elizabeth had seen him look anything close to scared, and she was forced again to repress the desire to move to his side and take his hand.

"You're in my way, boy."

Grinding his teeth once more, Jack quietly stepped aside, avoiding Captain Teague's eyes. Blast Barbossa to the depths of the Locker for calling on Captain Teague. What was it about this man that always rendered Jack a tongue-twisted, speechless young lad once again?

Elizabeth, seeing the two men side by side, was convinced beyond doubt that they were related. Was this Jack's father? Did piracy run not only in Jack's soul, but also in his family? With a sudden pang of guilt, Elizabeth realized how little she knew about Jack, despite so many months aboard his vessel, fighting with him, fighting against him. She had always been too busy trying to achieve her own ends, trying to set her own life to rights, to care much about what went on in his. It was something she would have to remedy once all this was over. She wanted to know more about Jack, more about this mysterious man that instilled fear into the hearts of some of the most bloodthirsty pirates she knew, and yet seemed so harmless to her.

Captain Teague gestured once, and two other pirates stepped into the room, carrying a huge, heavy book embossed with the shining inscription, _Pirata Codex_

The infamous Pirate Code. Elizabeth had heard of it countless times, she just hadn't realized it was actually written in book form. She hadn't even known whether most pirates could read anything more complicated than a map. As far as Pintel was concerned, she wasn't sure whether he could do even that. But this Captain Teague person obviously knew his way around the alphabet, as he skimmed through the dusty volume with his finger.

"Ah," he sighed finally. "Barbossa is right."

Next to Elizabeth, Barbossa made a sweeping gesture of acknowledgement. Jack glared at him and finally found his tongue. "Hang on a minute," Jack stopped Captain Teague from closing the book. "It shall be the duty of the King to declare war, parlay with said adversaries...fancy that."

"There's not been a king since the first court, and that's not likely to change," the French Pirate Lord said resignedly.

"Not likely," Captain Teague murmured, with a meaningful look at Jack. Instantly, Jack's brain flew into action. Not likely wasn't the same as impossible, now was it? The solution had to be simple, some way to get everyone to fight, so this whole Davy Jones mess could be over and done with and Jack could go back to his ship and rum in peace.

"Why not?" Elizabeth asked quietly, confused. It seemed like a good idea. From what she'd seen of this ragtag bunch of rum-soaked pirates, they could use some strong leadership.

"Because the king is elected by popular vote," Gibbs kindly told her.

"And each pirate only ever votes for himself," Barbossa completed the thought.

"I call for a vote!" Jack announced cheerily, ignoring the grumbles of the other Pirate Lord. This could still work out all right, if he was careful. Maybe his father being here wasn't such a bad thing after all.

As soon as Elizabeth saw his face, she knew he had hatched another plan. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. What was Jack up to now?

"I vote for Amman the Corsair!" voted Amman the Corsair.

"Capitan Chevalle, the penniless Frenchman."

"Sri Sumbhajee votes for Sri Sumbhajee."

"Mistress Ching!"

"Gentleman Jocard."

It was Elizabeth's turn. Right on cue, she said resignedly, "Elizabeth Swann." She couldn't see what the point of this was. Why was Jack doing this? At this rate, they were waiting like sitting ducks for the East India Trading Company.

"Barbossa."

"Villanueva!"

Eight Pirate Lords had spoken. Only one remained. There was a moment of silence, where even the notes of the guitar stopped, and in that moment, Elizabeth's gaze met Jack's, she saw the conspiratorial gleam in his eye, and with a shock, she understood what he was about to do. The answer was so simple, so beautiful in its originality, that she just hadn't thought of it. For a Pirate King to be elected, all it would take was one pirate who could see the bigger picture, take into account something other than his own personal glory, to say the name -

"Elizabeth Swann," Jack said, a wicked glint in his eye.

"What?" Elizabeth asked, confused for a moment. She had thought he would call upon Barbossa. Barbossa was the one with the experience, the plan, the authority, after all. Granted, his idea was flawed, and would probably end up killing them all, but still, he had seniority over Elizabeth. Hadn't her plan been ridiculed by the entire congregation only seconds before?

"I know, curious isn't it?" Jack asked, giving her a small smile. He knew she was the best choice for King, and the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that he had made the right decision. He had known from long ago that piracy was in her very nature, and her actions of today had only proven his conviction true. She had strode into the gathering of sea-worn pirates, turned the place topsy-turvy with their news, and then offered them a good plan to fix everything. Granted, nobody had taken her words seriously, but with the authority of Pirate King, she would be heard. He had never coveted the position much himself, too much advance planning required, and Jack was a make-it-up-as-you-go man, but he could see that Elizabeth Swann as Pirate King was by no means a bad thing.

Elizabeth barely noticed the raised voices all around her. She was absolutely shocked, astonished, by Jack's words. Only a few minutes ago, he was complaining about 'giving the bloody title' of captain away! Why in the world had he made her Pirate King? She couldn't lead these people in reality, could she? But as she stared at Jack, and he stared right back, she suddenly understood something. _He thinks I can do it_, she realized with wonder. Jack Sparrow, _the_ Captain Jack Sparrow, thought she could be Pirate King.

_Only one problem_, Elizabeth thought, looking around the angry room. It appeared that the rest of the pirates disagreed, Elizabeth's own men included. Tai Huang still hadn't accepted her as Captain in place of Sao Feng. _That would have to be remedied_, she noted, unconsciously already taking up the mantle of her leadership.

"Am I to understand that you lot will not be keeping to the code, then?" Jack asked innocently. _That should shut them up._ The twang of a guitar string snapping echoed through the suddenly silent room as all eyes turned towards Captain Teague. It was nearly enough to make Jack feel warm and fuzzy feelings for his father, except that the memory of their past together was still as fresh in their minds as though it were yesterday instead of a decade ago.

"Very well," Mistress Ching spoke at last. Jack looked at her, pleased. He knew she was one of the most sensible pirates present, and he was glad to be proven right. "What say you, Captain Swann, King of the Brethren Court?"

All eyes turned on Elizabeth again, but this time, she wasn't scared. She knew what had to be done, and she was prepared to do it. She knew what she was doing was the right method, the way in which she would avenge her father, the way in which all their lives would return to as before, the way they would all earn their freedom.

"Prepare every vessel that floats," she ordered, a steely glint in her eye. "At dawn, we're at war."

At her words, Jack became convinced beyond a doubt that she would do great things as Pirate King. Look at her now, silencing the room with just a few orders and staring down anyone who tried to stand in her way. He liked the way she thought, too. Her plan was nice - simple, easy to remember. The best kind of plans, in Jack's opinion. Yes, she could conquer the world as Pirate King, sheltered governor's daughter or otherwise.

Elizabeth glanced at Jack, to see what he thought of her plan, and was immediately struck by the shining approval in his face. The last time she had seen that expression on his face was when she was pulling her lips away from him after handcuffing him to the mast of his own ship. It was a look of complete support, complete appreciation, and it made Elizabeth straighten her spine with new courage. He truly believed she was worthy of Pirate King. And she trusted Jack's judgment about these things. With Jack Sparrow on her side, she couldn't fail.

The oldest of the Pirate Lords finally stood up. With great authority, he said, "And so, we shall go to war." Elizabeth was instantly taken aback by the high squeaky pitch of his voice, but his words had the desired effect. As one, the room began cheering, loud, raucous, bloodthirsty cheers, and Elizabeth felt a smile break out on her face. They could do it. With this much manpower, this many ships, surely Cutler Beckett would be dead this time tomorrow. She would make sure of it.

...

Jack looked around the screaming room with a sense of fleeting accomplishment. He turned around to go back to the _Pearl_, stock up for the next day, and in doing so, inadvertently met the eyes of his father. The eyes that looked so much like his own. Looking at him in - sadness? Pity? Eyes that looked like they knew his every thought.

"What?" he asked, slightly aggressively. "You've seen it all, done it all. You survived." He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "That's the trick, innit? To survive?" Regardless of what happened to everyone else, regardless of what befell those you loved, wasn't that what his father had taught him?

Captain Teague regarded him gravely. "It's not just about living forever, Jackie." It had been a long time since he last heard that nickname, Jack realized. Ten years or more. It made him feel like he was sixteen again. "The trick is, living with yourself forever."

Maybe a year ago, those words would have mystified him. But now, Jack realized, he knew exactly what his father was talking about. Living wasn't worth it when you were alone - it was a realization he had made a long time ago when he had returned to the _Pearl_ rather than escape the Kraken unscathed. He didn't know what life would be like without his ship, without his crew, without - he broke off the thought before it got him into trouble. He wouldn't have been able to live with himself had all of them been killed while he remained above land. In a way, he was rather glad Elizabeth had done what she had. It was much easier to forgive her than forgive himself. Living with himself, had he caused her death, would have been unbearable. Much like what his father probably felt. Nobody knew the reality of living alone with himself better than his father.

"How's mum?" Jack asked, leaning closer, trying to keep his voice from trembling. He hadn't seen his mother for longer than he cared to remember.

Without a word, his father held up a shrunken head on a string that had been in his belt before. Jack gulped. So the rumors he had heard were true. "She looks great," he lied, trying to smile and failing.

He turned away from Captain Teague, heading back for the _Pearl_. It was going to be a long day tomorrow, and he had best start trying to sleep as early as possible. Because as his dear Pirate King so forcefully put it, at dawn, they were at war. And it was a war they couldn't lose.

(A/N: Phew! That was long. But it was also a long scene, and I really love the idea of Jack worrying about Elizabeth. Upon rereading it, I realized that I made it really repetitive, but I like it that way, it makes it feel like Jack's worrying about Elizabeth to the point of obsession. Plus, there's a lot that happened between this scene and the last Sparrabeth scene that I really wanted to hint at. Like Jack's relationship with Will. It fascinates me, not so much in a romantic perspective, but in a friends vs. rivals perspective. Just like Barbossa and Jack, which I also enjoyed portraying. Jack and Will's conversation at night right before Jack leaves Will for Beckett really fascinates me - I was thinking of including that in this story, even though it wasn't a Sparrabeth moment per se, but I decided not to. But I'm toying with the idea of making it a separate one-shot, what do you think? And I also wanted to create the impression that Jack had been doing a lot of thinking on the journey to the Brethren Court - not just about Elizabeth, but about life and freedom and priorities. Because Jack's priorities really change a lot in this third movie, especially after Elizabeth's kiss and the kraken and dying and whatnot, and I think Captain Teague sums it up best: "It's not just about living forever, Jackie. It's about living with yourself forever." One of my favorite lines! I had to put in that last little bit about Jack and his dad, even though people advised me to cut it off right there. I don't really know what the next Sparrabeth Moment's going to be. I'm thinking maybe the parley on the sand, because I love that little scene with all the major players in the movie in it. Well, this has been a super long author's note. If you really read all this, please tell me what you think!)


End file.
